Hermione's Letter
By Steve

Copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related concepts and situations copyright © JK Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.

All reviews get a review response.

Dedicated to my beta reader who constantly encourages me, refines and enhances my work and made To Dream Again II such a success.

Chapter 14

She raised her wand, pointed it at Ron, and said, "Enervate!"

Ron's eyelids shot apart, as if they had been touched by the power of an electric shock, but there was no further response from him. He simply lay on the bed, showing no signs of consciousness or of awareness of the world around him, and of the many pairs of eyes peering down at him from around his bed.

After perhaps a minute of being in this state, his eyelids moved together, forming their protective layer over his eyes once more.

There was no further motion from him, nor was there any sound from those surrounding him.

The French doctor repeated Hermione's charm, but there was no movement this time, not even the battering of an eyelid.

She tried again and again, hoping desperately for some change, but eventually Madame Maxime placed her hand on the old doctor's shoulder, and pulled her away, leading her out into the corridor.

Professor Dumbledore, similarly, placed his arm around Hermione, and held her close to him.

Hermione was paralysed by what she was seeing.

Ron was gone.

And it was she, Hermione, that had caused it to happen.

By following the instructions on a letter that could well have been a fake.

***

Harry Potter sat up straight in his bed in the Second Ward of the hospital at Beauxbatons, his glasses on the small cupboard unit next to him, the glass shattered, and Harry himself with a large cut directly above his left eye where some of the glass had impacted his skin, being mended by one of the organic patches that were so frequently used in Beauxbatons. He held a cup of pumpkin juice and on the top of his quilt lay a bar of chocolate, which was a much more useful nutritional supplement in the wizarding world than in the world of the Muggles, where it was simply a fattening item with a few limited benefits, and thus loved by Harry's cousin, Dudley, who had once owned a massive model of himself carved out of chocolate, before he had given in to temptation and eaten its entirety, and surprisingly enough, with no ill-effects whatsoever.
          Harry longed to see his friends again; he hadn't seen Hermione or Ron, or in fact, anyone who was not a patient or a member of medical staff since he had been brought into the ward after the disastrous crash of the Hufflepuff transport. Granted, it had been but a few short hours previously, but he felt nevertheless alone.
          He repaired his glasses with the spell now familiar to him from Hermione's teachings, and after replacing them on his face, he glanced around the small room, which was perhaps ten metres square, and contained four beds. Hannah Abbott was lying asleep in the bed next to his; opposite him was Amelia, Sarah's sister, who had almost been lost at the scene of the crash, and the fourth bed was occupied by a fourth-year Hufflepuff boy who had suffered concussion in the initial impact of the transport into the sea.
          His eyes went back to Hannah, who, even in medical clothing, was a very nice-looking girl; her blonde hair flowed behind her and her unblemished face, which was facing Harry, shone in the purple glow that permeated the medical wing of the school. Her eyes were closed, and thus Harry couldn't observe her beautiful blue eyes again, but he found he had plenty to regard and consider anyway.
          Then he thought of Hermione, and how he had felt that evening when she had fallen on top of him; he'd felt similarly then to how he did now, although he had to admit to himself that the feeling had been more intense with Hermione than it was right now with Hannah. He didn't know if it was the fact that it had been Hermione, or if her closer proximity had increased the strength of the feelings, but he definitely knew that they were stronger with her than with the blonde Hufflepuff girl.
          Harry had never experienced love, nor knew how to tell if he had been afflicted by it; but he sensed that these feelings might have something to do with it. He would have to discuss it with Ron, who probably experienced these feelings for someone.
          Suddenly, he noticed a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him. He jumped, and tried his best to regain his composure, not wanting to look a fool, but knowing he'd been caught in the act.
          Hannah pulled herself up in her bed, sitting up straight with her legs still under the covers, and yawned loudly, stretching her arms and her mouth widely as she did so, and when she had finished, she turned to face Harry, and gave him a wide smile.
          "Hi, Harry," she said by way of greeting. "What time is it?"
Harry looked at his watch, which, because it was in a wizarding school, had stopped functioning, and, realising this, he looked at a Wizarding Clock which was hovering in the centre of the room, and which was semitransparent.
          "Seven thirty. But I don't know if it's morning or evening. I awoke from the crash to find myself in here, and there aren't any windows, so I can't tell."
          Hannah nodded, her eyes taking an unusually long time to blink, indicating the fact that she was still grossly tired. "How are your friends? Have you seen them? And have you seen Susan?" she queried.
          Harry answered her questions as best he could, which amounted to the total of informing Hannah that he hadn't seen any of them, or indeed anyone at all, since he had been in the ward.
Indeed, there did not appear to be an entryway to the ward at all; the room had no windows and no doors.
          Hannah picked up a glass of water that seemed to be waiting for her on the unit next to her bed and drunk from it, feeling all over refreshed as she did so. There were many diverse applications of magic, and this was yet another of them. She felt much more awake as the water passed into her body and made widespread its effects.
          "Umm, Harry," she said, the same nervousness she had had before, when they had first met on board the transport, permeating her voice, "you remember what we discussing aboard the transport?"
          Harry didn't have to think too hard to realise what she was talking about. It was, after all, quite like what he had been thinking about himself minutes earlier. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound reassuring, so she would feel more at ease with herself.
          Hannah took a deep breath. "Well," she began, "as I said, I… well, I'm attracted to one of the Gryffindor boys, and I… well, that is, if you would, not that you have to or anything, I understand it might make you uncomfortable…"
          Harry's hopes leaped. Could it be that there was someone here who cared for him?
          "Hannah, I'd love to."
          Hannah looked a bit shocked, but a smile grew on her face. "You would?" she said with a note of surprise.
          "Yes. You're… well, you…" he stuttered, before plucking up his confidence, "you're beautiful, and it would… well, it would make me proud to be with you." His face had turned a deep shade of the primary colour red, and was similarly coloured to one half of the colours of his Hogwarts house, Gryffindor.
          Hannah's face began to mirror these colours, and a little tear came out of her right eye's tear duct as a wide smile assimilated her face.
          Harry looked rather disturbed when he noticed it.
          "What's up, Hannah?" he asked his new girlfriend.
          She wiped the tear away. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say those words."
          Harry climbed out of his own bed, and moved over to Hannah's, sitting himself down on the top, and putting his arm around her back, very considerately allowed her to snuggle up against him, the warmth of each other's body increasing the feelings of bliss now being experienced by both of them.

          Neither Harry nor Hannah had ever felt as contented.

          That feeling, Harry thought, is most definitely back.

***

          Professor Albus Dumbledore led the third-year Gryffindor known as Hermione Granger away from the Infirmary, heading towards the temporary office of Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hermione's Head of House, and possibly favourite teacher, which was located in a new staff facility that had been constructed by the Beauxbatons staff in record time.
          Hermione had still not reacted to the events she had just observed; no tears, no words, not even an expression. She simply walked adjacent to Professor Dumbledore, although she was now walking without the support of his arm. The Professor had taken another pear drop, and was sucking gently on it, whilst Hermione gazed into space, not really aware of where she was going, but following the Professor's lead.
          They arrived at the door of the staff building and Professor Dumbledore opened it with little effort, despite the door's massive size and mass. Hermione walked in and was followed by her Headmaster, and followed him down a white corridor that possessed none of the usual Beauxbatons coloured illumination; in its place were white panels on the walls that seemed to emit light. They were extremely bright, and Hermione focused her eyes on the floor, which, by total contrast, was black, and seemed to absorb light instead of create it.
          Parvati Patil and the Professor already occupied the office of Professor McGonagall, which was at the end of the corridor and up the stairs, so Dumbledore was told by Mia, Lavender and Alicia who were waiting outside it. All of them tried to speak to Hermione, but received no answers, until Lavender asked after Ron.
          Hermione started to cry as soon as she was asked, shaking her head feebly, and Lavender immediately took her in her arms, holding her as tightly as she could, stroking her head through her large bushy hair.
          Professor Dumbledore went in to see Professor McGonagall, and Parvati, who now looked a lot more relaxed, having had a talk about her sister with the Transfiguration teacher, came out from the office.
          "There has been too much blood loss. We have lost him, Minerva. However, although Ronald Weasley is down, he may not necessarily be out."
          Minerva McGonagall looked seriously at Professor Dumbledore.
          "You mean, there may be a possibility to bring him back?"
          Albus nodded. "Indeed, there may be. But it will mean further risk. If we lose him a second time, there really will be nothing we can do."
          McGonagall continued to look at him intently as he continued.
          "To bring him back from the state of near-death in which he is now, we need to locate a full-sized Blue Phoenix, convince it to spread young Mr. Weasley with the Dust of Benevolence, and then a round-the-clock vigil of his closest friends and family will need to be maintained in order to transfer the necessary life-energy to him for his recovery to begin."
          McGonagall's heart sank; the expression on her face saying everything that needed to be said.
          "Do you really think we can do that?"
          Professor Dumbledore simply answered, "We must. The loss of Harry's and Hermione's best friend will affect them in ways that will affect their futures, and the future of the world. They will not be able to fulfil their destinies without him. Besides, if we don't, Hogwarts will have lost its best chess player of all time, and as the Headmaster, it would be rather irresponsible of me to allow that to happen, don't you think?" He forced a smile, and Minerva did the same.
          "You realise that we could both get life sentences in Azkaban for what we are going to attempt?"
          "Yes," Dumbledore said, "but I know that what might happen if we don't will be much more severe than the life imprisonment of two Hogwarts teachers. We must take that risk."
          Professor McGonagall slowly nodded her acceptance.
          "Perhaps we should tell Hermione. She is in an awful state. No doubt she blames herself for what appears, to her, to be Ron's death," pronounced Albus, and the two exited the room, to find Hermione in the arms of her four friends, simply silent again, her emotions apparently paralysing her again.
          "Hermione, would you please come into my office?" Professor McGonagall asked as softly as she could.
          Hermione granted her request silently, not tilting or raising her eyes, not making any vocal acknowledgement, but moving into the office nonetheless.
          Minerva gestured for Hermione to sit down opposite her, and she did so, again silently.
          "Now, Hermione, firstly, you should know that Ron is not dead. He is simply in a state of what we call 'near-death' – he is stable, but we will not be able to revive him unless we can supply him with more life energy. Professor Dumbledore and I have a plan on how to do that, but until we can execute it, we will need you to sit tight. I know this will be difficult, especially for you and for young Mr. Potter, but it is essential that you do. Hold on to the thought that Ron will be ok, because he will be. It may not be today, or tomorrow, or even in the next few months, but he will recover."
          Professor McGonagall considered that which she had just committed to doing while she gave Hermione some time to absorb what she had just been told. She was going to break the law and risk a life sentence in Azkaban, as well as risk her life by entering close proximity of a Blue Phoenix; they were the direct opposite of the more common yellow phoenix, and had the opposite temperament too – they were vicious and unfriendly, and they attacked with a powerful blast of ice, capable of destroying a human body with a single direct hit. But they also held a powerful regenerative property – the Dust of the Purest Heart, unique to the species, and capable of bringing someone in the Near-Death state back to a normal condition. And if Ron was to survive, or at least ever be revived, this substance would be a necessary element.
          Hermione, meanwhile, was still staring rather blankly and nonchalantly into space. Ron was alive. No, he's dead. Her own eyes had told her that. But Professor McGonagall wouldn't lie. But then, thinking about it, she would if she thought it was better for someone than to know the truth. Yes, that must be it. Ron's dead.
          "You must be mistaken, Professor, for I have seen that Ron is dead," she chanted in a monotone.
          Professor McGonagall was apparently taken aback, as the look on her face was clearly one of surprise. She looked from left to right, before responding to Hermione's erroneous statement.
          "No, Hermione, he's alive. He's not dead. He's in…" she considered carefully, "…a deep sleep. To awaken him, we need a special medicine."
          Again, Hermione thought about it. Why does she continue to lie? He's dead! Ah – maybe she can't accept his death. He is, after all, one of her favourite students.
          "Professor, I know it's hard, but you need to accept his death. He's gone, and will never be coming back. It's true, I'm sorry." She looked into Professor McGonagall's eyes, and the latter flashed Hermione a sympathetic look.
          "You're right, Hermione. I need to accept it, and move on. It'll be hard, as you say, but I will be able to do it." She looked up at Professor Dumbledore, the fear of what was happening here evident in her eyes.

***

Virginia Weasley and Samantha Tensenson, sitting in the Common Room of the forward residence tower at Beauxbatons School of Magic in France, had found partners to share rooms with. Ginny's partner was an overly tall girl called Amélie, and Sam's happened to be her identical twin, Anaïs. Both of the twins possessed lime green hair and similarly coloured eyes, and were both sixteen years old. Sam and Ginny had initially thought themselves unlucky to have had to pair up with much older girls, but had soon come to regard the twins in a much better light, as they were both very bright and were extremely friendly, once the language barrier was surpassed. Additionally, they possessed much advice regarding relationships, and this was attractive for any girl, even the young Samantha.

"Well, you see, Anaïs, I've only been a witch student for the past two days, but I've… well I've kinda fallen for someone already." She hid her face behind a nearby purple pillow.

"You 'ave? Zat's wonderful! Tell me," Anaïs responded in somewhat exaggerated excitement.

"Well, you see, he's been really nice to me since day 1. He welcomed me to Gryffindor and he and his friends didn't reject me when the other students did. You see, a lot of the students from Hogwarts don't like me. But he and his friends and his sister didn't reject me."

Anaïs smiled at her new friend. "Zat must 'ave been nice. For zem not to reject you, I mean."

Samantha smiled. "It was… but then I wish a few more people would let bygones be bygones too." Her expression drooped a bit, and Anaïs recognised that it was time to move the conversation on again.

"So 'oo is it?" she asked. Sam, however, didn't response, so Anaïs repeated the question, and when that didn't work she prodded Sam's arm sharply.

This caused Sam to be disturbed from her thoughts, and she responded with some confusion, until Anaïs repeated the question for the second time.

"Oh. It's Ron Weasley," she responded with a big smile on her face.

Anaïs was a little bit shocked by the revelation that the person Samantha liked was two years older than she was, which at Sam's age, was quite a difference. Additionally, Anaïs had not yet met the, unbeknownst to them, near-dead Ron, who was, of course, in the Infirmary, and therefore she did not know if Ron was as nice as Samantha made him out to be. People in love often have clouded perceptions of the targets of their affections, and as a very young girl, who was only just becoming aware of romantic relationships, Samantha would be even more susceptible to them.

It was at that moment that a large, white owl tapped sharply on the window of Anaïs' room, which was where the two girls were having their conversation. The elder girl reached over and opened the window, and the owl flew in and dropped a note on Samantha's bed, flying off immediately with several other notes still in its wings.

Samantha opened the note, noticing that it was rather hastily written. She read it aloud:

"Sam, come down to the Infirmary immediately. Meet me there. Hermione"

Samantha wondered what was going on, and concluded that the only way to find out was to go down there.

***

On arrival at the scene, Samantha met Hermione, and also Sarah, her boyfriend Fred Weasley, his twin brother George, their sister Ginny and their brother Percy, all of whom had been summoned. Additionally, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were present.

"Good, now you are all here, I have an announcement to make," said Hermione proudly, with a big smile on her face. "I would like to inform you all… that Ronald Weasley and I are getting married."