A/N: Here is the second installment in my Romance/Angst. It was very late
when I completed this, so any grammar errors were made because I didn't
have the strength to correct them at 2:00 in the morning. I hope you enjoy
reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I own nothing but the plot, so do not make me copyright it because you could not think of your own and took mine.
Chapter 2
"How are her vitals?"
"They seem to be normal, her pupils react to light and her breathing is regular. No signs of seizure or hypothermia."
"Concussion?"
"Yes, but no internal bleeding, thank goodness. She's a lucky one. There are at least four knots on her head from falling and getting slammed around. Poor child, it seems she was pulled into an ally and raped. A Mr. Potter and Ron Weasley from the third floor brought her in; they said she tripped over a piece of concrete and fell into oncoming traffic.
One of the nurses gasped, "Raped? Oh dear! Whatever happened to the man who did it?"
"The poor dear stunned him before she took off running, oh isn't it just horrible Gladys? The Ministry said the man had the dark mark burned into his arm; they seemed to think he was looking for something when he attacked her and then just had his way with her."
One nurse pressed her wand into the crook of the unconscious girls' elbow, after a few seconds the wand pulsed under her fingers. The nurse counted the pulses and determined her blood pressure to be normal. "Such dreadful things to have happened to such a lovely young girl, can she still have children Marie?" Gladys asked as her friend checked the supplies in the cupboard.
"Yes, I think so. Come, Gladys, lets leave her be." The women finished restocking the necessary supplies and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
In the hallway, Harry Potter sat in a stiff wooden seat next to Hermione's room. He had heard the two nurse's entire conversation. He didn't know Hermione had been beaten to death and raped. He and Ron had been on their way back to Harry's flat when Hermione had burst from a nearby ally in hysterics and fell face first into the street where she was nearly crushed by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped before running over her and Harry had rushed her back to St. Mungo's while Ron went home to tell his family and contact Hermione's. He sat in shock and a lone tear slowly trailed its way down his cheek.
George Weasley sat at the kitchen table at his parent's house rifling through papers and receipts without really seeing the words. He was in a state of shock and utter disbelief.
He and Fred, who had gone upstairs for more files, had been cooking the books for nearly two hours when his little brother had apparated into the kitchen to tell them that Hermione was unconscious in the Hospital and looked to have been beaten somehow. George sighed and rubbed his fists into his eyes. Poor Hermione, of all the people to have been beaten and mugged, she was the one that was least physically capable to defend herself without magic.
George pointed his wand at the coffeepot, "Accio coffee," he muttered, and it floated to his empty cup and refilled it. He knew he should have gone with his family to the hospital, but he couldn't leave his brother with all the store paperwork that was due the next morning. If they didn't hand their reports, along with the rent and merchandise records to the landlord the next morning, they could kiss their flourishing little joke shop goodbye. He had no choice but to stay and help his brother get it all done. Besides, he had resolved to apparate to her bedside straight after they finished and stay by her side until she would awake.
He wasn't sure when it had happened, maybe in his seventh year at Hogwarts, but George had somehow become attracted to Hermione. Every year since his graduation at his family's Christmas party he would catch and memorize her littlest characteristics out of the corner of his eye. His favorite was after each sip of creamy hot chocolate or peppermint tea she would press her lips together and lick the sweet liquid from her upper lip. He also loved how she would flip her hair over her shoulder as she sat down and then immediately press her hands into her lap to warm them.
Of course George had never told anyone about his feelings for her; after all she was his little brother's best friend. He suspected Fred and Ron knew however since they had both caught him unconsciously gazing at a picture of her, Ron and Harry at their graduation. They ribbed him about it but he hardly suspected them to take it serious, after he had them he was merely concerned that his little brother's nose appeared to be growing crooked.
George heard footsteps behind him and felt his brother give him a playful slap on the head with the heavy files. "Still awake dear brother?" Fred asked flinging himself into a chair across from his brother.
"Surely I am. I would fancy a kipp though. How much more have we got? I want to go to the hospital." George said taking another gulp of his mother's coffee.
"You may not have a kipp because we would never be finished in time, and all that's left is these," Fred said sliding him the merchandise folders three inches thick that he had brought from upstairs, "and don't call me Shirley."
It must have been nearly two in the morning when the pounding in Hermione's head grew so intense that it began to bring her back to consciousness. She heard familiar voices in the hallway and it made her heart give an eager leap. She tried opening her eyes but couldn't focus on anything through the blur and the room began to spin terribly. She closed her eyes and turned her head in the direction of the voices. Even the simple movement of a little head jiggle made her want to moan in agony. Every muscle particle ached and throbbed, especially the secret spot between her legs and she couldn't think why that would hurt at the moment; and she wasn't sure she wanted to think about it just then.
She could faintly pick out Ginny's soft voice from the hallway, and Hermione wanted so badly for her to know she was awake so she could hold her friend's hand. She could also pick out her father's smooth baritone voice asking a question and she felt a sob catch in her throat. 'Daddy.I need you Daddy.' If only she could call out to him. She could feel her breathing become labored and she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. She began to feel sleep overcome her as she heard a young male voice answer her father. 'George.?'
Hours later, after most of his family had fallen asleep in the waiting room chairs, George held Hermione's hand and tried to coax her awake with a soft conversation. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you Hermione." He whispered tracing little circles in the palm of her hand.
"It's just not fair, you never deserved something like this and I wish with all my heart that you would wake up and talk to me. You don't know how long I've wanted to hold your hand and whisper a secret conversation to you and." George felt his throat constrict and prickling in the corner of his eyes, "I never dreamed you would have to lie in a hospital bed for that to happen. I'm so sorry Hermione, why did this have to happen?" He bent and placed a small kiss in the palm of her hand.
Overcome with sadness and fatigue he gently rested his head on the mattress next to Hermione's hip. Suddenly he felt the smallest of weight on the top of his head as fingers pushed into his red curls. He slowly raised his head and Hermione's hand fell to his cheek, George brought both hands to his cheek and pressed her palm into the side of his face.
He looked into her pain stricken face with its many cuts and welts. She had a small gash in her cheek that still needed to be magically healed and her bottom lip had a mighty split down the center from when, he suspected, she was slapped across the face. He felt tears come to his eyes as she struggled to take a breath, "I don't know why this happened George."
A small sob escaped her throat and George leapt to his feet and leaned to embrace her the best he could, "It will be all right Hermione, okay? You'll be okay. We'll have you on the mend in no time." He pulled back and Hermione nodded sadly at him and raised a shaky hand to swipe at her tears. George grinned at her and gently rubbed the last of her tears away with his thumb. He let his hand linger on her cheek as he gazed softly at her. He wanted so badly to lean and softly kiss her, but felt she would recoil at this sudden unexpected show of affection. Besides, he would leave it for another day when she had time to mend and think properly.
He slowly drew his hand away; "I better go get your parents."
She gave him the slightest of nods, "Thank you George, you're a real friend."
Somewhere deep down those words cut like a knife as he turned to leave her room.
Three days later, Hermione was released from St. Mungos with a bottle of potion to soothe the aches in her muscles and joints that hadn't gone away. Thankfully, the healers magically healed her bruises and cuts so that it looked as though they were never there.
On her first day home, her mother had sent her straight to her old bedroom where she climbed into soft cotton pajamas and snuggled between her blankets with a warm cup of peppermint tea. Peppermint tea reminded her of Christmas since it was the tea Mrs. Weasley served at Christmas dinner every year. Hermione smiled. The Weasley family dinner was tomorrow night and she would be damned if she missed it.
Somewhere out of the back of her mind bits and pieces returned to her from her first night in the hospital. She remembered someone's lips pressing into the palm of her hand.she remembered wet tears and the soft spoken words "You don't know how long I've wanted to hold your hand and whisper a secret conversation to you and. I never dreamed you would have to lie in a hospital bed for that to happen."
Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth as the meaning of George's heartfelt words began to sink in. George fancied her? And not only that, but he had been crying that night like he honestly and truly cared for her. Hermione settled into her pillows and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. Hermione began to feel her muscles relax as she thought of George, how he had leaned down to hug her and she could remember the scent of his hair and the feel of his weight on her chest.
Suddenly, haunting flashes of a dark ally clouded her mind; she could remember the scent of rum and filth. Hermione clutched at her chest as she remembered a crushing, pinning weight on her chest that prevented any escape. She gasped as a dull ache formed on the side of her face from where the man hit her across the face. Flashes of being thrown to the ground invaded her mind, she felt like she was suffocating. The weight on her chest was crushing her, something jammed her legs apart, and something forced its way inside her cruel and ripping. Ropes were biting into the skin around her wrists and her arms were pinned above her head, she could feel something closing around her throat denying her air, air that she needed to live.
"Nooooo." Hermione moaned. She moved to the side of her bed, clutching for the bedside table. Her mug of tea clattered and fell where the dark liquid spilled and seeped into the soft blue carpet. Hermione was gasping for air, she couldn't breath, couldn't call for help. She wanted the memories to go away because they hurt so badly. She wanted to return to Hogwarts and see her students, she wanted to see Harry and Ron, and she wanted to fall in love and have a child. How could she possibly live after this? Was this what life was going to be like? If the sweet memory of a friend showing affection towards her were enough to trigger horrible recounts of that night in the ally, she would never be able to live and be the same happy person that she was before.
"Ohhh." Hermione voice quailed and she clapped a hand over her mouth as her stomach lurched, tears spilling down her cheeks. She turned onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow. There was just no hope was there?
That night in another part of London, Harry stood at his window with a cup of coffee silently gazing into the yard next door. Nothing was happening, the neighbors were quite asleep, but inside Harry's head a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that left no room for any information his eyes might transfer to his brain. Hermione had been raped and, as far as he knew, he was the only one who knew about it, and that was by fluke. She could be pregnant, she could have a disease or she could be damaged so badly that she would never be able to have children. Shouldn't he tell her parents? They might want to consult her doctor or the police or just do something!
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Hermione has always been responsible; he believed he could trust her to do the right thing. He also believed she would tell whomever she was comfortable with knowing the full truth about what happened that night. His heart went out to his friend; she had always been so kind and caring. It seemed impossible that such a horrible thing could happen to a very good person.
As Harry stood thinking, arms snaked around his waist from behind. "What are you thinking over Mr. Potter?"
Harry smiled and rubbed the hands clasped at his waist, "Nothing much Miss Weasley. Just wondering how Hermione is holding up." He said and turned to face his captor. He carefully set his un-drunk coffee on the nearby kitchen table and moved to bring her closer.
"You know, you and Ron are so very good to Hermione. She is so fortunate to have such protective friends that care so much about her." Ginny said as she playfully grabbed the openings of Harry's robes.
Harry grinned at her, "Why yes, I can be quite the protector," he said framing her face with his hands, "and that can be very fortunate. Merry Christmas." And he bent to capture Ginny's smiling lips with his.
A/N: This story was originally 9 pages long so I cut it in half since I figured most of you wouldn't want to spend 2 hours reading it! I also managed to read through this and correct most of the mistakes, so I hope I got most of them.
Please review respectfully. I appreciate all criticism and praise, as it's the only way writers can grow.
I own nothing but the plot, so do not make me copyright it because you could not think of your own and took mine.
Chapter 2
"How are her vitals?"
"They seem to be normal, her pupils react to light and her breathing is regular. No signs of seizure or hypothermia."
"Concussion?"
"Yes, but no internal bleeding, thank goodness. She's a lucky one. There are at least four knots on her head from falling and getting slammed around. Poor child, it seems she was pulled into an ally and raped. A Mr. Potter and Ron Weasley from the third floor brought her in; they said she tripped over a piece of concrete and fell into oncoming traffic.
One of the nurses gasped, "Raped? Oh dear! Whatever happened to the man who did it?"
"The poor dear stunned him before she took off running, oh isn't it just horrible Gladys? The Ministry said the man had the dark mark burned into his arm; they seemed to think he was looking for something when he attacked her and then just had his way with her."
One nurse pressed her wand into the crook of the unconscious girls' elbow, after a few seconds the wand pulsed under her fingers. The nurse counted the pulses and determined her blood pressure to be normal. "Such dreadful things to have happened to such a lovely young girl, can she still have children Marie?" Gladys asked as her friend checked the supplies in the cupboard.
"Yes, I think so. Come, Gladys, lets leave her be." The women finished restocking the necessary supplies and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
In the hallway, Harry Potter sat in a stiff wooden seat next to Hermione's room. He had heard the two nurse's entire conversation. He didn't know Hermione had been beaten to death and raped. He and Ron had been on their way back to Harry's flat when Hermione had burst from a nearby ally in hysterics and fell face first into the street where she was nearly crushed by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped before running over her and Harry had rushed her back to St. Mungo's while Ron went home to tell his family and contact Hermione's. He sat in shock and a lone tear slowly trailed its way down his cheek.
George Weasley sat at the kitchen table at his parent's house rifling through papers and receipts without really seeing the words. He was in a state of shock and utter disbelief.
He and Fred, who had gone upstairs for more files, had been cooking the books for nearly two hours when his little brother had apparated into the kitchen to tell them that Hermione was unconscious in the Hospital and looked to have been beaten somehow. George sighed and rubbed his fists into his eyes. Poor Hermione, of all the people to have been beaten and mugged, she was the one that was least physically capable to defend herself without magic.
George pointed his wand at the coffeepot, "Accio coffee," he muttered, and it floated to his empty cup and refilled it. He knew he should have gone with his family to the hospital, but he couldn't leave his brother with all the store paperwork that was due the next morning. If they didn't hand their reports, along with the rent and merchandise records to the landlord the next morning, they could kiss their flourishing little joke shop goodbye. He had no choice but to stay and help his brother get it all done. Besides, he had resolved to apparate to her bedside straight after they finished and stay by her side until she would awake.
He wasn't sure when it had happened, maybe in his seventh year at Hogwarts, but George had somehow become attracted to Hermione. Every year since his graduation at his family's Christmas party he would catch and memorize her littlest characteristics out of the corner of his eye. His favorite was after each sip of creamy hot chocolate or peppermint tea she would press her lips together and lick the sweet liquid from her upper lip. He also loved how she would flip her hair over her shoulder as she sat down and then immediately press her hands into her lap to warm them.
Of course George had never told anyone about his feelings for her; after all she was his little brother's best friend. He suspected Fred and Ron knew however since they had both caught him unconsciously gazing at a picture of her, Ron and Harry at their graduation. They ribbed him about it but he hardly suspected them to take it serious, after he had them he was merely concerned that his little brother's nose appeared to be growing crooked.
George heard footsteps behind him and felt his brother give him a playful slap on the head with the heavy files. "Still awake dear brother?" Fred asked flinging himself into a chair across from his brother.
"Surely I am. I would fancy a kipp though. How much more have we got? I want to go to the hospital." George said taking another gulp of his mother's coffee.
"You may not have a kipp because we would never be finished in time, and all that's left is these," Fred said sliding him the merchandise folders three inches thick that he had brought from upstairs, "and don't call me Shirley."
It must have been nearly two in the morning when the pounding in Hermione's head grew so intense that it began to bring her back to consciousness. She heard familiar voices in the hallway and it made her heart give an eager leap. She tried opening her eyes but couldn't focus on anything through the blur and the room began to spin terribly. She closed her eyes and turned her head in the direction of the voices. Even the simple movement of a little head jiggle made her want to moan in agony. Every muscle particle ached and throbbed, especially the secret spot between her legs and she couldn't think why that would hurt at the moment; and she wasn't sure she wanted to think about it just then.
She could faintly pick out Ginny's soft voice from the hallway, and Hermione wanted so badly for her to know she was awake so she could hold her friend's hand. She could also pick out her father's smooth baritone voice asking a question and she felt a sob catch in her throat. 'Daddy.I need you Daddy.' If only she could call out to him. She could feel her breathing become labored and she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. She began to feel sleep overcome her as she heard a young male voice answer her father. 'George.?'
Hours later, after most of his family had fallen asleep in the waiting room chairs, George held Hermione's hand and tried to coax her awake with a soft conversation. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you Hermione." He whispered tracing little circles in the palm of her hand.
"It's just not fair, you never deserved something like this and I wish with all my heart that you would wake up and talk to me. You don't know how long I've wanted to hold your hand and whisper a secret conversation to you and." George felt his throat constrict and prickling in the corner of his eyes, "I never dreamed you would have to lie in a hospital bed for that to happen. I'm so sorry Hermione, why did this have to happen?" He bent and placed a small kiss in the palm of her hand.
Overcome with sadness and fatigue he gently rested his head on the mattress next to Hermione's hip. Suddenly he felt the smallest of weight on the top of his head as fingers pushed into his red curls. He slowly raised his head and Hermione's hand fell to his cheek, George brought both hands to his cheek and pressed her palm into the side of his face.
He looked into her pain stricken face with its many cuts and welts. She had a small gash in her cheek that still needed to be magically healed and her bottom lip had a mighty split down the center from when, he suspected, she was slapped across the face. He felt tears come to his eyes as she struggled to take a breath, "I don't know why this happened George."
A small sob escaped her throat and George leapt to his feet and leaned to embrace her the best he could, "It will be all right Hermione, okay? You'll be okay. We'll have you on the mend in no time." He pulled back and Hermione nodded sadly at him and raised a shaky hand to swipe at her tears. George grinned at her and gently rubbed the last of her tears away with his thumb. He let his hand linger on her cheek as he gazed softly at her. He wanted so badly to lean and softly kiss her, but felt she would recoil at this sudden unexpected show of affection. Besides, he would leave it for another day when she had time to mend and think properly.
He slowly drew his hand away; "I better go get your parents."
She gave him the slightest of nods, "Thank you George, you're a real friend."
Somewhere deep down those words cut like a knife as he turned to leave her room.
Three days later, Hermione was released from St. Mungos with a bottle of potion to soothe the aches in her muscles and joints that hadn't gone away. Thankfully, the healers magically healed her bruises and cuts so that it looked as though they were never there.
On her first day home, her mother had sent her straight to her old bedroom where she climbed into soft cotton pajamas and snuggled between her blankets with a warm cup of peppermint tea. Peppermint tea reminded her of Christmas since it was the tea Mrs. Weasley served at Christmas dinner every year. Hermione smiled. The Weasley family dinner was tomorrow night and she would be damned if she missed it.
Somewhere out of the back of her mind bits and pieces returned to her from her first night in the hospital. She remembered someone's lips pressing into the palm of her hand.she remembered wet tears and the soft spoken words "You don't know how long I've wanted to hold your hand and whisper a secret conversation to you and. I never dreamed you would have to lie in a hospital bed for that to happen."
Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth as the meaning of George's heartfelt words began to sink in. George fancied her? And not only that, but he had been crying that night like he honestly and truly cared for her. Hermione settled into her pillows and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. Hermione began to feel her muscles relax as she thought of George, how he had leaned down to hug her and she could remember the scent of his hair and the feel of his weight on her chest.
Suddenly, haunting flashes of a dark ally clouded her mind; she could remember the scent of rum and filth. Hermione clutched at her chest as she remembered a crushing, pinning weight on her chest that prevented any escape. She gasped as a dull ache formed on the side of her face from where the man hit her across the face. Flashes of being thrown to the ground invaded her mind, she felt like she was suffocating. The weight on her chest was crushing her, something jammed her legs apart, and something forced its way inside her cruel and ripping. Ropes were biting into the skin around her wrists and her arms were pinned above her head, she could feel something closing around her throat denying her air, air that she needed to live.
"Nooooo." Hermione moaned. She moved to the side of her bed, clutching for the bedside table. Her mug of tea clattered and fell where the dark liquid spilled and seeped into the soft blue carpet. Hermione was gasping for air, she couldn't breath, couldn't call for help. She wanted the memories to go away because they hurt so badly. She wanted to return to Hogwarts and see her students, she wanted to see Harry and Ron, and she wanted to fall in love and have a child. How could she possibly live after this? Was this what life was going to be like? If the sweet memory of a friend showing affection towards her were enough to trigger horrible recounts of that night in the ally, she would never be able to live and be the same happy person that she was before.
"Ohhh." Hermione voice quailed and she clapped a hand over her mouth as her stomach lurched, tears spilling down her cheeks. She turned onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow. There was just no hope was there?
That night in another part of London, Harry stood at his window with a cup of coffee silently gazing into the yard next door. Nothing was happening, the neighbors were quite asleep, but inside Harry's head a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that left no room for any information his eyes might transfer to his brain. Hermione had been raped and, as far as he knew, he was the only one who knew about it, and that was by fluke. She could be pregnant, she could have a disease or she could be damaged so badly that she would never be able to have children. Shouldn't he tell her parents? They might want to consult her doctor or the police or just do something!
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Hermione has always been responsible; he believed he could trust her to do the right thing. He also believed she would tell whomever she was comfortable with knowing the full truth about what happened that night. His heart went out to his friend; she had always been so kind and caring. It seemed impossible that such a horrible thing could happen to a very good person.
As Harry stood thinking, arms snaked around his waist from behind. "What are you thinking over Mr. Potter?"
Harry smiled and rubbed the hands clasped at his waist, "Nothing much Miss Weasley. Just wondering how Hermione is holding up." He said and turned to face his captor. He carefully set his un-drunk coffee on the nearby kitchen table and moved to bring her closer.
"You know, you and Ron are so very good to Hermione. She is so fortunate to have such protective friends that care so much about her." Ginny said as she playfully grabbed the openings of Harry's robes.
Harry grinned at her, "Why yes, I can be quite the protector," he said framing her face with his hands, "and that can be very fortunate. Merry Christmas." And he bent to capture Ginny's smiling lips with his.
A/N: This story was originally 9 pages long so I cut it in half since I figured most of you wouldn't want to spend 2 hours reading it! I also managed to read through this and correct most of the mistakes, so I hope I got most of them.
Please review respectfully. I appreciate all criticism and praise, as it's the only way writers can grow.