The usual… I don't own Harry Potter, enough said.
PinkTribeChick- I almost had you in tears? Wow * grins * does that mean it's well written? Hope so!
Gazy- cool super long review, I LOVE long reviews! By the way, your stories are really good and though at first they may be similar they're still two separate tales. And it's good to know it's one of your favourites- you guys are so nice to me!
Kole17- yep just like a soap opera! Very dramatic, and has a habit of ending at cliffhangers…
Sylver-Ajah- it's actually NOT one of those fanfics, I can tell you that for sure…
Posy- well being clever is one of my good points… joking! I can be a bit of a dumbass.
"I still can't believe it. What exactly happened, Minerva? The bruising and damage is atrocious."
"I know no more than you, Poppy. It is a disgrace that this girl was pregnant anyway… but still, nobody deserves this. And to think that I- I was going to make her-" Professor McGonagall let out a sob.
"It isn't your fault," Madam Pomfrey said, sounding distressed. "Nobody could have predicted that would happen, it is just a tragedy. Still, that young boy, what's his name? Aaah, Mr Malfoy. Yes, at least he was there when she fell. If he hadn't gone and fetched me, it would have been more than the baby that was dead."
Hermione squeezed her eyelids together, trying to stifle the scream that was pleading to erupt from her bloody lips. She lay completely still, so that they would continue to think she was asleep.
"I still wonder exactly how she fell down the stairs. What is the precise damage, Poppy?"
"One broken rib, a shattered ankle and wrist and broken kneecap, with severe bruising to her stomach, spine and back of neck. A cut mouth, which I still don't understand, and lastly of course… the miscarriage."
"Oh," Professor McGonagall whispered, then burst into subdued tears. "One of my prized students, a wonderful, intelligent girl… how did she get in this mess? And… wait, did she just stir?"
Hermione opened her eyes, pretending to have just woken up, and shifted a little in the hospital bed. Immediately pain could be felt in her rib as she struggled to breath. Brushing her curly hair out of her face, she sat up a little bit more, the dull ache intensifying.
"Hermione," Madam Pomfrey said softly. It was unusual for her to call students by their first name. "Hermione love, what happened? You had a little accident down the stairs…"
"I know," Hermione said slowly, wincing with the ache from her rib. "What… is my baby… dead?" Hot tears sprung to her eyelids, and a lump appeared in her throat. "Are you sure nothing…. Nothing can be done?"
"I am so sorry," Madam Pomfrey said. "Nothing could be done." Silence followed, upon which Hermione pulled up the covers and disappeared under them, not trusting herself to talk to them any longer. Apart from the pain that ripped apart her body, all she could feel was numb. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing.
"You can rest here for a few more days," Professor McGonagall whispered. "Lots of people have been wanting to visit you, but I can tell you're not up to it." Hermione didn't answer. "We'll leave you to sleep a little longer."
The sound of a door slamming meant Hermione could sit up again. She inched her way up the pillow and glanced down at herself. Both of her legs were battered and had obviously been mended, because no immediate agony could be felt. Her left ankle had a bandage around it for support, and her left wrist also, but she could move them, though they creaked like antiques. The rib was the worst thing; it had mended but needed rest, and meant her movement was severely restricted. As she looked down, all she could see was black and blue. But she just didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore without the baby.
"My baby," she whispered to herself, snuggling up a little bit more. "My baby."
***********
"Some visitors to see you," Madam Pomfrey said gently. "Shall I tell them you're too tired?"
"No, let them in," Hermione said carelessly. Whoever it was, maybe they could distract her from the tears that pricked her eyelids, but somehow never seemed to leave.
It was Ron and Harry. Both were carrying cards and little presents.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, leaning over her and kissing her on the forehead. Hermione didn't mind- but then again, nothing really bothered her, except the loss of her baby.
"You okay?" Ron asked, then immediately bit his lip. "Sorry, stupid question," he said quickly. "Of course you're not…. Anyway, we've bought presents." He dropped a box of chocolates onto the side, next to Harry's present of some flowers.
"Thanks," Hermione muttered. The pain had been gradually easing, but it still hurt her to speak. It suited her, because at least she had an excuse not to converse much. She had the comfort of not being alone, and the pleasure of her own thoughts.
"Want to talk about… what happened?" Harry said timidly, placing his warm hand against her own small, cold one. Ron sat the other side and did the same; and for one second Hermione felt a little happier as she realised her friends were with her once more. Then she remembered everything had happened, and she was miserable again.
"I fell down the stairs." Hermione's voice was flat. "I lost… I lost my baby. Well, they think so. They think so." She growled quietly at the thought of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. "But my baby wouldn't leave me. It's here." She carefully pointed a shaking finger in the direction of her stomach. "Here with me. It'll never leave me." The denial was toneless- even Hermione herself didn't believe it. But rather anything than face the terrible, terrible truth.
Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks. They think I'm mad, Hermione thought, and found she didn't really care.
After a couple more minutes they left, but Hermione wasn't left alone at all that day. People flitted to and fro; Hagrid, Lavender and a tearful Parvati, Neville- even Professor Dumbledore himself. But no matter how many times she heard it, Hermione refused to admit her baby was dead. Often she found herself stroking her stomach out of habit, trying to feel some movement- a kick, a tiny pulse, anything! Anything to prove it was still there.
"My baby's not gone," she said to herself. "He's still here…" But she stopped, catching a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror nearby. She looked maniacal; hair stuck all over the place, eyes red rimmed and sore, mouth red and stained with blood, talking and muttering to herself.
"I've gone mad," she cried, and burst into tears.
And slowly but surely she realised… her baby had truly gone. And it was never coming back.
Cheers guys for all your reviews, PLEASE keep them coming!
