With a little help from my Friends
Ron slid down the wall until he was in a crouching position, his head hanging down into his hands. He seemed to be crying softly while he shook his head. In a matter of seconds his face too had gone frighteningly pale. Hermione glanced over to Harry. He was looking at her, his mouth covered by his hand but she could see in his eyes the look of shock, sadness and sickness. She looked down at her own hands. Why had she nodded?
"Oh, 'Mione." She realised Ron had crossed to the bed and was now hugging her tightly, seemingly not wanting to let go. Harry put a supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed, but did not say anything. He now seemed to be avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but at her. He still looked pale, though nothing compared to the ghostly appearance Ron had acquired.
"Are you ok?" Ron asked, searching her eyes. "Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?"
"NO!" Hermione exclaimed. Both boys looked shocked at her sudden outburst. She felt hot tears begin to roll down her already drenched face. "No, I can't tell anyone. I'll be fine."
"But – but what about Dumbledore?" Ron asked, bewildered.
"No! Definitely not Dumbledore! You two have got to promise me that you won't tell Dumbledore or McGonagall or any of the other teachers, understand? If you do, I'll deny it. I'm not telling any teachers."
Harry finally turned around, amazed at his friend's out-of-character burst. This was Hermione – she lived her life by the tell-a-teacher rule. Sure, she wasn't exactly a goody two shoes contrary to popular belief – sometimes she could be the most cunning out of the lot of them – but in a situation like this?
"But, Hermione, why?" he asked.
"You don't have to protect him, you know. He's the one in the wrong." Ron said calmly, his arm still held protectively around her. "You have no reason to be ashamed."
That's what you think Hermione thought glumly.
"Look, I have my reasons. Just please, promise me you won't tell anyone." She pleaded, grasping a hand from each of her friends.
Ron looked at Harry doubtfully. "Hermione, I can't prom-"
"Promise me!" she cried.
Harry and Ron exchanged one more dubious glance, before nodding.
"If it's what you really want." Ron whispered loud enough for both of them to hear.
"It is." She said even quieter, before laying her head on Ron's shoulder. Both boys nodded, squeezing her hand.
"Hermione…" Harry started.
"What?" she asked quietly.
"Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing."
"No." she replied, much more calmly than before.
"But-"
"Harry, I can't."
"But what if -"
"Harry! I told you be-"
"Hermione." Ron interrupted their bickering and looked thoughtfully at Harry. "I think Harry might have a point."
"Ron, please! I can't! Don't make me!" she replied, pulling away from him and looking in his eyes, her voice panic stricken.
"I'm not going to make you do anything! But if Draco raped you, then there's a chance you could be…" he left the sentence hanging.
"What do you mean?" she asked. She looked at the worried faces on the boys. "Oh no, no don't worry, I'm not."
"How do you know though?" Ron asked. He seemed to be doing Harry's share of talking too. Not that Hermione minded; Ron seemed to be handling 'the situation' much better than Harry. Which made her feel a hundred times worse.
"I'm not. Don't make me go in to it now, but there's no way I am."
"But-" He began again.
"Ron! Harry! I'm not pregnant!" she exclaimed.
Both boys looked at her and hesitantly nodded. They obviously both thought she should get a check up or something but saw it would do no good to pursue the matter now.
"And what about other stuff?" Ron asked quietly.
"What other stuff?" Harry asked, seemingly convinced that there wasn't a lot to discuss here.
"Illnesses and stuff. Diseases." He answered, although he looked straight at her while he said it.
"No." she said, shaking her head.
"How do you know? A lot of these you can't tell 'till after." He said. Hermione thought hard. How had she gotten into this mess in the first place?
"A spell." She choked out. "Yeah, I recognised this spell he did. It stops stuff like that." She nodded, her voice sounding nervous. Ron nodded too, accepting this answer. After all, if there was a spell for it, Hermione knew it.
"How are you though? I mean, physically?" he asked, scanning her arms and face for bruises. She suddenly became very conscious of her lack of bruising. Surely there would have been some sign of a struggle. She'd have to give herself some later.
"I'm ok, kind of. My arms hurt a little from where he held me…" she trailed off and looked at the bed quilt. She heard Harry take in a sharp breath and felt Ron's arm tighten around her. She felt sick – here she was, imagining her own rape while her two friends were overcome with grief for her.
"And mentally? Emotionally?" Ron whispered so only she could hear.
"I'll get over it, I guess. You know…" they fell silent as Hermione fidgeted with the quilt, everyone's eyes upon it as though it were the most interesting thing.
After about five minutes, Ron realised Hermione had cried herself to sleep in his arms. He got up gently so as not to wake her, and motioned to Harry to pull the curtains while he brought the quilt over her. Harry nodded towards the door and Ron nodded in response. As he was about to leave, he took one last look at her. He smiled grimly. The idea of that filth Malfoy even touching his best friend made him feel sick. He brought a finger to her dampened face and gently pushed one of many tears away.
She stirred slightly, but to Ron's relief did not waken. She just put her hand to her face where he had touched her and muttered one word before rolling over.
"Draco."
Ron clenched his teeth. He would get that bastard back for this.
*~*~*~*~*
"What are we doing?" Harry asked frantically as Ron searched through their dorm.
"We're getting our own back, Harry." He replied, murmuring.
"What do you mean?" Harry was confused.
"Did you fail to notice what that scum did to our best friend, or were you not interested in her fucking rape?" Ron spat. Harry was taken aback. Ron rarely got this angry with Harry. He wished he would stand up and just yell out right, instead of accusing him in such an off-handed manner.
"Don't be an asshole Ron, of course I noticed." He said through clenched teeth. "But I don't see what we can do now."
"I told you, we're getting revenge."
"But how? She won't let us tell Dumbledore."
Ron finally stood upright and turned his attention to Harry. He was still angry, but not at Harry.
"I know. I wish she would let us – they'd have to expel him; at least then he'd get out of our faces. But she's too embarrassed or something…"
"Why is she embarrassed though?" Harry flopped down on the bed and rubbed his eyes.
"Well wouldn't you be? If the whole school knew that dirt had touched her…" Harry noticed Ron clench his fists again and went back to searching.
"What are you looking for?" Harry asked, looking over at Ron who was now throwing things out of cupboards and from under beds.
"This!" he heard Ron cry triumphantly from underneath Harry's bed.
He came out, his robe covered in dust, holding up a scrappy piece of parchment.
"The map?" Harry frowned at Ron. How the hell can a map help now?
"Yes, the Marauders Map."
"Ok…why?"
"How many times, Harry? Revenge." He sighed.
"I know that, we've established we're getting revenge. But how the hell is a map going to help us?"
"What does this particular map tell us Harry?" Ron said slowly.
"Where people are, but-"
"Exactly." Ron smiled slowly. "Where people are."
Harry looked quizzically at Ron. Why did they need to know where people are?
"Ron, slow down. What the hell are you on about?"
"I've told you."
"Yeah ok, we're getting revenge. But how does the map come in to it?"
"Well if we can't tell Dumbledore, we'll get revenge on Malfoy the old fashioned way."
Harry looked at Ron. The old fashioned way?
"Oh." He said, finally realising. "You're going to pummel him then?"
"No, my friend; we're going to pummel him." Ron answered decidedly.
"Ron, I know you want to kill him, but maybe we should just see if it'll blow over…"
"Blow over?" Ron yelled angrily. He had grabbed Harry by the collar and had him pinned against the cold wall, his feet just hovering above the ground. "It won't blow over, Harry! I'm not letting him get away with this! I don't give a shit about rules or whatever, he hurt Hermione and he's going to learn never to do it again! Now if you care more about your freaking pretty face than Hermione, then fine, I'll do it on my own."
He pushed Harry into the wall before letting him slide to the floor. Harry looked up at Ron, shock in his eyes. Ron was breathing heavily as he looked down at his friend. He stretched out his hand and pulled Harry up in a silent gesture of apology. Harry saw the determined look in Ron's eyes and rubbed his neck.
"I'm in." he said hoarsely.
"Glad to hear it." Ron replied quietly and turned towards a small table where he smoothed out the map. Harry came and stood beside him, both now intent on seeking vengeance for Hermione. They scanned the crinkled parchment for a lone black dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy'.
Ron placed his finger on the small dot.
"Astronomy Tower. Now."
A little note from me: ooh cliff-hanger! C'mon, you've gotta love 'em! Well I like them anyway…thank you to my reviewers (all 3 of them, surprising as I was asked to e-mail lots of people and only got one reply!) LostAngel: lol, I would but then one of my main characters would be, well, dead. Sorry! Thank you for reviewing love! Probably one of if not the most loyal reviewer I have! Yotama: Why thank you kindly ma'am! See you soon! DragonsMistress21208: Voila! Everyone else, please review and constructive criticism is very much welcomed! Feel free to suggest endings too because I've only got a rough idea. And if anyone else wants me to e-mail them when I post a chapter just leave your address and I will. Bye bye! xx
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter stuff all belongs to the great JKR, with the exception of Oliver Wood. Well, I guess she does own him seeing as he's fictional and all but….(sighs)…oh and "With a little help from my friends" is Joe Cockers work. I just thought the title kind of, um, fitted…in an ironic kind of way…I'll shut up now. Disclaimers only need to be two words long – "not mine". I'll use that in future, maybe. Wait, didn't I say I was gonna shut up now? Crowd shouts: yes!