Ron and Harry left slowly, not knowing what to do. The common room didn't
seem like the place to go, somehow. They walked down the hall at a crawling
speed, then stopped simultaneously. Harry pulled out his wand and turned,
without a word, and ran back outside towards the stadium, Ron right behind
him.
"You don't suppose - she's - I mean, she'll be - okay - won't she?" Ron panted, his face pure white.
"I think - she will - be," Harry panted back.
It seemed that the Death Eaters had retreated. The Dark Mark was still over the forest, and something else was written next to it that Harry couldn't read in the bright sunlight. There were teachers supporting others, digging through rubble, calling out names. Students were sobbing and screaming. Harry and Ron ran to Professor McGonagall, who was nearest.
"Professor!" Harry said breathlessly. "Is everyone all right?"
"Potter." said Professor McGonagall. "I saw Miss Granger."
"Oh.yeah," said Harry quietly.
"Is she in the hospital wing?" she asked nervously.
"Yeah," said Ron, looking down.
"Is anyone - I mean-" Harry began.
"The Heads of Houses are going to do a roll call. We want to be sure everyone got back all right. There are injuries, but we can sort them all out. And Potter-" she looked at Harry sharply, but kindly at the same time. "Thank you."
Harry nodded silently. Ron was still looking at the ground. After a moment, Professor McGonagall sighed and turned to help the others, Harry and Ron following her.
It was a terrible sight. The Quidditch pitch was completely ruined. There were people lying on the ground, shaking, people limping, people crying. Harry saw a Ravenclaw prefect with his arm around the shoulders of a girl who was clutching her forearm, which looked as though it had a very deep cut on it. He saw a boy kneeling on the ground, clutching his right leg.
"Are you okay?" asked Harry.
"Fine - cut leg," the boy gasped.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry, trying to see where Ron had got.
"Yeah - are you okay?" the boy was a Hufflepuff. Harry helped him up. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," said Harry, supporting the boy as they walked. Ron was helping Angelina Johnson, who was sobbing.
"Nice to meet you," the boy gasped, clearing his throat.
"Right," said Harry, looking straight ahead. He was trying not to look at too many people's injuries - it made him feel sick.
"I saw you help Professor McGonagall. Awfully brave of you."
"Oh," said Harry. "Thanks."
"I'm still shaking - I thought no one would come out alive."
"Right," said Harry again, the sick feeling increasing slightly.
"Blimey," said the boy, "Why would you have come out here?"
Harry didn't say anything. This boy obviously thought Harry would have gone and hid when the Death Eaters had come, not try to fight.
"I mean, it's dangerous for you, isn't it?" he continued.
"Sure, but it's also dangerous for everyone else if people go and hide instead of trying to protect them," said Harry, wishing the boy would stop talking.
"I never introduced myself. I'm Simon Hirsch, sixth year," he said, shaking Harry's hand sideways.
They fell silent after that. Harry walked Simon to the hospital wing and waited for Ron and Angelina to show up. Angelina had calmed down, and Harry could see that her leg was swollen. Madam Pomfrey was very harassed, as there were at least twenty students and teachers in the wing, with more on the way. The screen was still around Hermione's bed.
"Er, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry called. "Can we check on Hermione?"
Madam Pomfrey looked up briefly, then nodded in a brave sort of way. Ron pulled the screen back a bit and looked at Hermione. Harry followed him.
Her cuts on her face were mended and her arm looked unbroken, but she was still white and unconscious, her breathing ragged and uneven. Ron put a hand on her cheek, and cleared his throat. Harry took a deep breath and looked away.
"Harry, she's freezing," said Ron in a voice that was most unlike his own.
Harry looked around. There was a pile of blankets in a corner. He grabbed a couple and unfolded them, laying them on top of Hermione. She didn't move for the ten minutes that the boys stood and stared at her.
"Potter, Weasley, come along, please," said a voice behind them.
"You don't suppose - she's - I mean, she'll be - okay - won't she?" Ron panted, his face pure white.
"I think - she will - be," Harry panted back.
It seemed that the Death Eaters had retreated. The Dark Mark was still over the forest, and something else was written next to it that Harry couldn't read in the bright sunlight. There were teachers supporting others, digging through rubble, calling out names. Students were sobbing and screaming. Harry and Ron ran to Professor McGonagall, who was nearest.
"Professor!" Harry said breathlessly. "Is everyone all right?"
"Potter." said Professor McGonagall. "I saw Miss Granger."
"Oh.yeah," said Harry quietly.
"Is she in the hospital wing?" she asked nervously.
"Yeah," said Ron, looking down.
"Is anyone - I mean-" Harry began.
"The Heads of Houses are going to do a roll call. We want to be sure everyone got back all right. There are injuries, but we can sort them all out. And Potter-" she looked at Harry sharply, but kindly at the same time. "Thank you."
Harry nodded silently. Ron was still looking at the ground. After a moment, Professor McGonagall sighed and turned to help the others, Harry and Ron following her.
It was a terrible sight. The Quidditch pitch was completely ruined. There were people lying on the ground, shaking, people limping, people crying. Harry saw a Ravenclaw prefect with his arm around the shoulders of a girl who was clutching her forearm, which looked as though it had a very deep cut on it. He saw a boy kneeling on the ground, clutching his right leg.
"Are you okay?" asked Harry.
"Fine - cut leg," the boy gasped.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry, trying to see where Ron had got.
"Yeah - are you okay?" the boy was a Hufflepuff. Harry helped him up. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," said Harry, supporting the boy as they walked. Ron was helping Angelina Johnson, who was sobbing.
"Nice to meet you," the boy gasped, clearing his throat.
"Right," said Harry, looking straight ahead. He was trying not to look at too many people's injuries - it made him feel sick.
"I saw you help Professor McGonagall. Awfully brave of you."
"Oh," said Harry. "Thanks."
"I'm still shaking - I thought no one would come out alive."
"Right," said Harry again, the sick feeling increasing slightly.
"Blimey," said the boy, "Why would you have come out here?"
Harry didn't say anything. This boy obviously thought Harry would have gone and hid when the Death Eaters had come, not try to fight.
"I mean, it's dangerous for you, isn't it?" he continued.
"Sure, but it's also dangerous for everyone else if people go and hide instead of trying to protect them," said Harry, wishing the boy would stop talking.
"I never introduced myself. I'm Simon Hirsch, sixth year," he said, shaking Harry's hand sideways.
They fell silent after that. Harry walked Simon to the hospital wing and waited for Ron and Angelina to show up. Angelina had calmed down, and Harry could see that her leg was swollen. Madam Pomfrey was very harassed, as there were at least twenty students and teachers in the wing, with more on the way. The screen was still around Hermione's bed.
"Er, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry called. "Can we check on Hermione?"
Madam Pomfrey looked up briefly, then nodded in a brave sort of way. Ron pulled the screen back a bit and looked at Hermione. Harry followed him.
Her cuts on her face were mended and her arm looked unbroken, but she was still white and unconscious, her breathing ragged and uneven. Ron put a hand on her cheek, and cleared his throat. Harry took a deep breath and looked away.
"Harry, she's freezing," said Ron in a voice that was most unlike his own.
Harry looked around. There was a pile of blankets in a corner. He grabbed a couple and unfolded them, laying them on top of Hermione. She didn't move for the ten minutes that the boys stood and stared at her.
"Potter, Weasley, come along, please," said a voice behind them.