Part Seven:
As Febuary came to a close, Hermione was getting more and more anxious about the wedding. She was contacting Muggle flower shops, and wizard candle shops (she really wanted the same floating candles that Le Charme Magique had). And, of course, the work at St. Mungo's kept her very busy.
Too busy for Ron, as it was. And he was jealous. She could see it. But there was nothing she could do: between being a Healer and planning her wedding all by herself (she'd declined any offers for help, because she believed that "if you want something done right, you do it yourself"), there wasn't any time for...um, fun.
One night, Hermione was furiously writing out owls to all the places she knew that sold candles, but none of them had the floating ones with the blue flames. "Maybe I should just call the resturant and have them sell me their's...or at least tell me where they got them," she mused.
"Maybe you should forget about the damn candles," Ron, who was reading the "Daily Prophet" nearby, muttered. But she heard him, and turned around to give him a glare.
"Ron, I just want our wedding to be romantic. Obviously you don't seem to care..."
He'd had it. He stood up and slammed down the paper. "Don't tell me that I don't care, Hermione. It's just NOT THAT IMPORTANT!"
Hermione gasped. "How can you say that?!"
"Well, it's not!" he fumed. "The ceremony isn't what matters! It's what comes after the ceremony that important!"
She stood up. "How could you just be thinking about the honeymoon, you-"
"I'm not talking about the damn honeymoon!" Ron yelled before she could go into an all-out rant. But his voice grew gentler. "I'm talking about our marriage. The wedding is one day, the honeymoon is maybe a week...and our marriage is going to be for the rest of our lives. THAT'S what I'm thinking about. That one day...it doesn't matter to me that much."
Hermione was clearly cooling off, but she was still angry. "It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. You're right: it is only one day. But I want it to be a day to remember, and-"
Her sentence was interupted when an owl flew through the open window, dropping a note on the table Hermione had been working at. She and Ron looked at each other, and she picked it up. It read:
"ANGELINA AT ST. MUNGO'S. DON'T KNOW IF THE BABY IS ALRIGHT. JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW. -FRED"
"Oh, my God," Hermione whispered. Ron came up behind her and read the note. He muttered a curse when he read it. Hermione hurried out to the hall and put on her cloak. "I'm going to see her."
"Hermione, it's nearly ten o'clock at night," Ron said desperately. "You can see her when you go into work tomorrow..." He was just as concerned about his sister-in-law as she was, but he didn't want his fiancee running around anymore.
"I have to go," Hermione said quickly. "They're probably not letting any visitors in, that's why Fred had time to write some owls. But I'm a Healer, so..." She gulped. "See you." With a CRACK, she was gone.
She Apparated to the hospital. She went up to the receptionist, who looked up at her. "Hermione! I thought you left hours ago!"
"I had to come back for something," she said quickly. "Do you know where Angelina Weasley is being held?"
The receptionist checked her list. "Right on this floor, room 073," she said, pointing down the left hall. Hermione quickly thanked her and took off as fast as she could without running. She reached the room, and went inside.
Angelina was lying in bed with her eyes closed. There was nobody eles in there, and Hermione was sure that she was asleep. But as soon as Hermione sat down beside her, she opened her eyes. They were sparkling with tears. "Oh, Hermione..." she said, trying to sit up.
"What happened?" Hermione asked gently as she took her hand. Angelina squeezed it before she spoke:
"It was a cauldron explosion," she said in a small voice. "I was making a potion...a sleeping one, Fred told me he was having trouble sleeping, excited about the baby, he said...I wanted to surprised him with it, since I knew he wouldn't think to make it himself." Angelina smiled, but it quickly faded. "But then...I don't know what I did wrong. I remember the explosion...then I was here." Hermione saw some tears run down her future sister-in-law's face. "I've lost the baby."
"Did the Healer say-"
"They don't have to," Angelina said quickly. "I can feel it. It's gone." Angelina touched her stomach. "Oh, God..." She let go of Hermione's hand and covered her face, sobbing. Hermione sat on the bed beside her and put an arm around her. She wasn't sure what to do: she'd never experienced something like this before. But she felt an aching in her heart for the baby that Angelina and Fred were supposed to have. They would've been great parents, she thought sadly. It just wasn't fair...
Fred suddenly burst in, and Angelina looked up. "The Healer said I could come in now," he explained quickly. He sat at his wife's other side. "Did they say...?"
Angelina shook her head. "I think it's gone," she said as calmly as she could. Hermione could see Fred's eyes fill with tears now, too. She stood up.
"I'm gonna go," she said softly. She kissed Angelina's wet cheek and hugged her, then did the same to Fred. "You two...you write if you need anything. Are they making you stay the night?" Angelina nodded, too consumed by her grief to answer with words now. "I'll come and see you tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Hermione," Fred said softly. Hermione gave him one last sad smile, then walked out of the room.
Their baby was gone. But at least they still have each other, she told herself. And they didn't even have a wedding, she remembered.
Suddenly, the whole thing was starting to look very unimportant...in the scheme of things.
When she reached the lobby, she Disapperated (it wasn't allowed in the rest of the hospital). She had to talk to Ron, right away...
As Febuary came to a close, Hermione was getting more and more anxious about the wedding. She was contacting Muggle flower shops, and wizard candle shops (she really wanted the same floating candles that Le Charme Magique had). And, of course, the work at St. Mungo's kept her very busy.
Too busy for Ron, as it was. And he was jealous. She could see it. But there was nothing she could do: between being a Healer and planning her wedding all by herself (she'd declined any offers for help, because she believed that "if you want something done right, you do it yourself"), there wasn't any time for...um, fun.
One night, Hermione was furiously writing out owls to all the places she knew that sold candles, but none of them had the floating ones with the blue flames. "Maybe I should just call the resturant and have them sell me their's...or at least tell me where they got them," she mused.
"Maybe you should forget about the damn candles," Ron, who was reading the "Daily Prophet" nearby, muttered. But she heard him, and turned around to give him a glare.
"Ron, I just want our wedding to be romantic. Obviously you don't seem to care..."
He'd had it. He stood up and slammed down the paper. "Don't tell me that I don't care, Hermione. It's just NOT THAT IMPORTANT!"
Hermione gasped. "How can you say that?!"
"Well, it's not!" he fumed. "The ceremony isn't what matters! It's what comes after the ceremony that important!"
She stood up. "How could you just be thinking about the honeymoon, you-"
"I'm not talking about the damn honeymoon!" Ron yelled before she could go into an all-out rant. But his voice grew gentler. "I'm talking about our marriage. The wedding is one day, the honeymoon is maybe a week...and our marriage is going to be for the rest of our lives. THAT'S what I'm thinking about. That one day...it doesn't matter to me that much."
Hermione was clearly cooling off, but she was still angry. "It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. You're right: it is only one day. But I want it to be a day to remember, and-"
Her sentence was interupted when an owl flew through the open window, dropping a note on the table Hermione had been working at. She and Ron looked at each other, and she picked it up. It read:
"ANGELINA AT ST. MUNGO'S. DON'T KNOW IF THE BABY IS ALRIGHT. JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW. -FRED"
"Oh, my God," Hermione whispered. Ron came up behind her and read the note. He muttered a curse when he read it. Hermione hurried out to the hall and put on her cloak. "I'm going to see her."
"Hermione, it's nearly ten o'clock at night," Ron said desperately. "You can see her when you go into work tomorrow..." He was just as concerned about his sister-in-law as she was, but he didn't want his fiancee running around anymore.
"I have to go," Hermione said quickly. "They're probably not letting any visitors in, that's why Fred had time to write some owls. But I'm a Healer, so..." She gulped. "See you." With a CRACK, she was gone.
She Apparated to the hospital. She went up to the receptionist, who looked up at her. "Hermione! I thought you left hours ago!"
"I had to come back for something," she said quickly. "Do you know where Angelina Weasley is being held?"
The receptionist checked her list. "Right on this floor, room 073," she said, pointing down the left hall. Hermione quickly thanked her and took off as fast as she could without running. She reached the room, and went inside.
Angelina was lying in bed with her eyes closed. There was nobody eles in there, and Hermione was sure that she was asleep. But as soon as Hermione sat down beside her, she opened her eyes. They were sparkling with tears. "Oh, Hermione..." she said, trying to sit up.
"What happened?" Hermione asked gently as she took her hand. Angelina squeezed it before she spoke:
"It was a cauldron explosion," she said in a small voice. "I was making a potion...a sleeping one, Fred told me he was having trouble sleeping, excited about the baby, he said...I wanted to surprised him with it, since I knew he wouldn't think to make it himself." Angelina smiled, but it quickly faded. "But then...I don't know what I did wrong. I remember the explosion...then I was here." Hermione saw some tears run down her future sister-in-law's face. "I've lost the baby."
"Did the Healer say-"
"They don't have to," Angelina said quickly. "I can feel it. It's gone." Angelina touched her stomach. "Oh, God..." She let go of Hermione's hand and covered her face, sobbing. Hermione sat on the bed beside her and put an arm around her. She wasn't sure what to do: she'd never experienced something like this before. But she felt an aching in her heart for the baby that Angelina and Fred were supposed to have. They would've been great parents, she thought sadly. It just wasn't fair...
Fred suddenly burst in, and Angelina looked up. "The Healer said I could come in now," he explained quickly. He sat at his wife's other side. "Did they say...?"
Angelina shook her head. "I think it's gone," she said as calmly as she could. Hermione could see Fred's eyes fill with tears now, too. She stood up.
"I'm gonna go," she said softly. She kissed Angelina's wet cheek and hugged her, then did the same to Fred. "You two...you write if you need anything. Are they making you stay the night?" Angelina nodded, too consumed by her grief to answer with words now. "I'll come and see you tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Hermione," Fred said softly. Hermione gave him one last sad smile, then walked out of the room.
Their baby was gone. But at least they still have each other, she told herself. And they didn't even have a wedding, she remembered.
Suddenly, the whole thing was starting to look very unimportant...in the scheme of things.
When she reached the lobby, she Disapperated (it wasn't allowed in the rest of the hospital). She had to talk to Ron, right away...
