Hey everybody, I'm back. Ron and Hermione fans, you'll like this chapter,
I hope. I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I was out of town.
Again, I'd like to thank Baci, for posting the first three chapters for me
while I was away.
Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own Harry, Ron, Hermione, etc. But if I did. . . the world would be a different place.
Chapter 4
After a moment of severe shock had passed, Hermione half-carried, half- dragged Ron into her bedroom. She walked to the fireplace, where she intended to call the nearest healer. "Hermione." She heard Ron again. Whipping around, she ran to his side. "Hermione, please- no." He nodded his head towards the fireplace.
"Ok, Ron. Whatever you- " But when she turned around, he was asleep again. "Need." She finished softly. Unquestioningly, Hermione delved into her nearest drawer for her own medical bag and began to do all she could to ease and soothe his wounds.
As she ripped the remaining shreds of his shirt from his body she gasped. It looked like he had been in some kind of explosion. His chest was torn, his torso burned, and the wonderful abs she had come to love were covered by a sheet of blood.
She rubbed her hands over his wounds, trying to feel what needed healing. "Ron? What did this to you? Please tell me what happened- please. Come on, Ron." But of course he didn't answer.
Two days later, Ron had shown no signs of improvement. He was still on blood capsules and was losing his own blood quickly. The burns were still dark, the cuts still deep, and worst of all, he was still unconscious.
Hermione began to reread all of her old medical books for information on how to deal with wounds received in battle. Those accounted for at least some of the ones Ron had, she was sure. She called muggle doctors, posing as a student doing a thesis for college, asking them the best ways to deal with third degree burns. She did everything she could to help Ron.
She had owled his mother the night he'd appeared outside her door. 'Ron is fine- ' it read. 'His owl was lost when trying to reach you, to tell you that he'd decided to stay in Hogsmeade for a couple of days. He's going to be at my apartment- don't worry, I'll take good care of him.' She signed it with her name, and then added to the bottom as an afterthought. 'P.S. He's here looking for a job.'
'That'll keep her happy.' She thought to herself, as she'd returned to Ron. Hermione hadn't left his side since his arrival. She'd called her boss and lied about a family emergency, pneumonia, the death of a beloved pet, a bad break up, and anything else she'd had to say to get the week off from work. Luckily, she had never taken a sick day in her life, and he was happy to give her time off.
~~~
Another two days showed a slight improvement in Ron's condition. Hermione was still worried. He hadn't awoken yet, and a good portion of his wounds had been caused by magic, meaning that they could turn at any moment, killing him in an instant. Hermione still refused to leave her flat, instead remaining by Ron's side.
Every second not spent tending his wounds was used in speculation about how he received them. They weren't ordinary wounds- they were taking too long to heal. The burns on his legs could have been caused by a fire, but that didn't account for the gashes on his chest or the large bruise on the back of his head. If he'd been in a wizard duel, he could have easily received the gashes and bruises, but being burned as well was highly unlikely.
And there was the most important question of all. Why her? Why had he gone to Hermione's flat, of all places, when he was severely injured? He could have gone home- his parents knew more than she about wizard medicine. He could have gone to his brothers. Fred and George had numerous connections- at least some of them had to be with medical personnel. Instead, he had chosen to find her.
~~~
As the week drew to a close, Hermione's worry increased. If he wasn't awake by the end of the week, she would have to call someone. He could die in her apartment, and would, at the rate he was going. She had tried everything she knew to help, but he wasn't getting any better.
The very next day, while she was sitting beside him, holding his hand, his eyes opened. Ron looked up, and the first thing he saw was his 'Mione, silently crying over his body. Looking down, he saw why. Without moving the rest of his body, he squeezed her hand. Quickly, she turned her head to look at his face.
"Ron! You're awake, you're ok!"
"Whatever gave you he impression that I wasn't?" He asked, while trying to sit himself up. All he got for his efforts was a shooting pain that seemed the travel the entire length of his spinal cord.
"Don't you dare!" She said harshly. "You'll just hurt yourself some more." With that, she happily bustled out of the room and into the kitchen. When she came back, she had a full tray full of soup, crackers, and an assortment of wizard candies.
Looking up at her face, he slowly reached for a chocolate frog. She didn't even scold him! She just smiled happily and grinned at him like a maniac.
Unfortunately, when his arm got to a certain angle needed to reach the frog, he felt another shooting pain. He gasped quite loudly, and Hermione looked at him closely. "Ron, I'm so sorry. I should have known!" She picked up the frog herself, and began to feed it to him.
"Um, 'Mione. You didn't tell anyone about, well, me, did you?"
"No. I didn't think you'd want me to."
"Oh. All right then." She had moved onto the soup, which was almost gone when she heard a knock at the door.
She got up, and closing the door all but a crack behind her, moved to the front door. Upon opening the door, she found a very surely Andrew. He had a smile on his face and roses in his hand. "I've decided that you've been home for too long. We are going to spend the day in Hogsmeade, darling."
Hermione heard a loud crash from her bedroom, and hastily turned to Andrew. "Ron's. . . owl is in there, and it's making quite a racket."
"I'll get rid of it," he said, as he began to move for the room.
"No! I mean, I haven't given it the letter I need it to deliver yet, so there's really no point."
"Oh." Andrew stopped moving. "So, are you ready to go, or do I need to wait a moment?"
"Look, this is a very bad time. I'm really sorry, but I just can't go with you today." Andrew looked taken aback.
"But Herms," he began, but Hermione cut him off.
"I'm sorry. I can't go." She began to usher him towards the door.
"You will remember about Thanksgiving, though?" Hermione sighed. She'd almost forgotten about Thanksgiving. Andrew had numerous American relatives, all of them from his mother's side, and he had grown up celebrating the holiday. Hermione knew she was supposed to celebrate it with him, she just didn't know when, or where.
Hermione searched her brain for whatever she was supposed to remember. "Oh! Dinner, at- at that restaurant. You see, about that- "
"Herms, it's a very important, expensive place. You don't just make reservations and then break them! Besides, I told you about this weeks ago."
"I'm sorry, Andrew. I'll be a bit tied up for a while. Soon, though." Sighing, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. Hermione smiled as she heard another crash in the bedroom.
"Well, I'll owl you, ok love?" Nodding, she shut the door. When she returned to her bedroom, she found Ron trying to scramble back to his original place in her bed. The bedside table lamp was on the floor.
"Eavesdropping?" She questioned, slyly. Then she began laughing, for the first time in over a week. Ron laughed too, knowing that for some reason she wasn't mad at him.
The days passed, and slowly, Ron began to improve. He could sit up in bed, the burns were lighter, and the gashes were smaller. Hermione had even left him alone, when she'd gone to the Burrow to collect some of his things.
She wanted, more than anything, to know what had happened to him, but he had not volunteered that information, and she didn't intend to ask. If he didn't want to tell her, he didn't have to.
~~~
Soon, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Ron had turned all bright and cheery when Hermione told him. She was amazed that Ron had ever heard about the American holiday, but he explained to her that before Bill had settled down in Egypt, he had been stationed throughout the world. He had lived in America for almost two years. When he returned to the Burrow one November, he'd shared the American holiday with the rest of the family.
"And I'm glad he did!" When she laughed, he looked put out. "It's not funny, 'Mione! Thanksgiving is the best holiday of the year! There's turkey, and stuffing, and cranberries, and rolls, and. . ." He continued with his list, but Hermione didn't hear the rest. She was busy thinking. 'Of course Thanksgiving is Ron's favorite holiday. There's food!' Smiling to herself, she thought about it some more. Soon, she was determined to make that the best Thanksgiving of his life.
She went shopping that night, buying everything she would need to make dinner. The next morning, she set to work. She spent the entire day cooking turkey and making pie, determined to have all of his favorites for dinner that night.
As soon as she finished that evening, she made a tray that she carried into her bedroom. Ron's eyes grew wide at the sight, and he licked his lips hungrily, making her laugh. She sat down next to him on the bed, and began to feed him bits of turkey. It was then that her doorbell rang. Sighing, she told Ron that she would be back soon.
She opened the door to find Andrew, yet again. She held back a sigh. He was dressed impeccably, in a suit and tie. "Andrew, I told you, I can't go out tonight."
"Nonsense. You can, and you will."
"I can't. I'm sorry. I really am." It was then that she noticed her bedroom door. She had completely forgotten to close it! She gasped, and Andrew followed her gaze.
He walked over to the bedroom, nearly pushing Hermione out of his way. She protested as much as she could, but to no avail. Andrew walked into the room, and. . .
Hermione stifled a laugh. Ron was lying in the bed. There was a bandage around his head and a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. His cheeks were purple, and there was a pile of tissues near his right hand. Hermione couldn't decide whether he looked more like a war hero or a little kid, trying to get the day off from school.
"What's this?" Andrew asked, coldly and coolly.
"He's sick. Very sick. He has pneumonia."
"So you have skipped all of our dates in the last two weeks and are missing the most important dinner of our lives to take care of this- this- slacker?" Ron rolled his eyes. Couldn't the guy at least come up with something original? But Hermione's eyes flashed.
"Ronald Weasley is by no means a slacker. Don't you ever insult him again. Ever." Her voice had a scary coldness to it. Mentally, Ron backed away from her.
"So this is it? You would break a date with me just to take care of him? I don't think so. Hermione, you'll have to choose. You can't have both of us at once. It's either him, or me." Andrew moved to the door of the flat, as if he were going to leave.
Hermione pictured herself in five years. Waking up in the morning next to the man she loved, knowing that there were two sleeping children in the room next door. And the man she wanted to wake up next to was not Andrew. Not Andrew at all.
Slowly, she walked towards him. Ron felt his heart sink. Hermione looked up into her boyfriend's face. "That's sad, Andrew. I'm going to miss you." With that, she shut the door of her flat in his face.
When she returned to her bedroom Ron was staring at her openmouthed. She found the tray of food on a table next to the bed. Turning to him, she lifted the fork. "Hungry?"
~~*~~**~~*~~
Wow- another chapter finished. I hope you all liked that one. Please, review and tell me. And thank you to all of you who have reviewed already. Remember, you review mine, I'll review yours. I know I haven't done that yet, it was rather difficult to get to a computer in Disney World, but I'm going to spend the week reading/ reviewing your stories (and updating this one, of course). I'll thank you all individually soon, probably in the next chapter. Please, review! Thanks a ton~
~ Sugar High
Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own Harry, Ron, Hermione, etc. But if I did. . . the world would be a different place.
Chapter 4
After a moment of severe shock had passed, Hermione half-carried, half- dragged Ron into her bedroom. She walked to the fireplace, where she intended to call the nearest healer. "Hermione." She heard Ron again. Whipping around, she ran to his side. "Hermione, please- no." He nodded his head towards the fireplace.
"Ok, Ron. Whatever you- " But when she turned around, he was asleep again. "Need." She finished softly. Unquestioningly, Hermione delved into her nearest drawer for her own medical bag and began to do all she could to ease and soothe his wounds.
As she ripped the remaining shreds of his shirt from his body she gasped. It looked like he had been in some kind of explosion. His chest was torn, his torso burned, and the wonderful abs she had come to love were covered by a sheet of blood.
She rubbed her hands over his wounds, trying to feel what needed healing. "Ron? What did this to you? Please tell me what happened- please. Come on, Ron." But of course he didn't answer.
Two days later, Ron had shown no signs of improvement. He was still on blood capsules and was losing his own blood quickly. The burns were still dark, the cuts still deep, and worst of all, he was still unconscious.
Hermione began to reread all of her old medical books for information on how to deal with wounds received in battle. Those accounted for at least some of the ones Ron had, she was sure. She called muggle doctors, posing as a student doing a thesis for college, asking them the best ways to deal with third degree burns. She did everything she could to help Ron.
She had owled his mother the night he'd appeared outside her door. 'Ron is fine- ' it read. 'His owl was lost when trying to reach you, to tell you that he'd decided to stay in Hogsmeade for a couple of days. He's going to be at my apartment- don't worry, I'll take good care of him.' She signed it with her name, and then added to the bottom as an afterthought. 'P.S. He's here looking for a job.'
'That'll keep her happy.' She thought to herself, as she'd returned to Ron. Hermione hadn't left his side since his arrival. She'd called her boss and lied about a family emergency, pneumonia, the death of a beloved pet, a bad break up, and anything else she'd had to say to get the week off from work. Luckily, she had never taken a sick day in her life, and he was happy to give her time off.
~~~
Another two days showed a slight improvement in Ron's condition. Hermione was still worried. He hadn't awoken yet, and a good portion of his wounds had been caused by magic, meaning that they could turn at any moment, killing him in an instant. Hermione still refused to leave her flat, instead remaining by Ron's side.
Every second not spent tending his wounds was used in speculation about how he received them. They weren't ordinary wounds- they were taking too long to heal. The burns on his legs could have been caused by a fire, but that didn't account for the gashes on his chest or the large bruise on the back of his head. If he'd been in a wizard duel, he could have easily received the gashes and bruises, but being burned as well was highly unlikely.
And there was the most important question of all. Why her? Why had he gone to Hermione's flat, of all places, when he was severely injured? He could have gone home- his parents knew more than she about wizard medicine. He could have gone to his brothers. Fred and George had numerous connections- at least some of them had to be with medical personnel. Instead, he had chosen to find her.
~~~
As the week drew to a close, Hermione's worry increased. If he wasn't awake by the end of the week, she would have to call someone. He could die in her apartment, and would, at the rate he was going. She had tried everything she knew to help, but he wasn't getting any better.
The very next day, while she was sitting beside him, holding his hand, his eyes opened. Ron looked up, and the first thing he saw was his 'Mione, silently crying over his body. Looking down, he saw why. Without moving the rest of his body, he squeezed her hand. Quickly, she turned her head to look at his face.
"Ron! You're awake, you're ok!"
"Whatever gave you he impression that I wasn't?" He asked, while trying to sit himself up. All he got for his efforts was a shooting pain that seemed the travel the entire length of his spinal cord.
"Don't you dare!" She said harshly. "You'll just hurt yourself some more." With that, she happily bustled out of the room and into the kitchen. When she came back, she had a full tray full of soup, crackers, and an assortment of wizard candies.
Looking up at her face, he slowly reached for a chocolate frog. She didn't even scold him! She just smiled happily and grinned at him like a maniac.
Unfortunately, when his arm got to a certain angle needed to reach the frog, he felt another shooting pain. He gasped quite loudly, and Hermione looked at him closely. "Ron, I'm so sorry. I should have known!" She picked up the frog herself, and began to feed it to him.
"Um, 'Mione. You didn't tell anyone about, well, me, did you?"
"No. I didn't think you'd want me to."
"Oh. All right then." She had moved onto the soup, which was almost gone when she heard a knock at the door.
She got up, and closing the door all but a crack behind her, moved to the front door. Upon opening the door, she found a very surely Andrew. He had a smile on his face and roses in his hand. "I've decided that you've been home for too long. We are going to spend the day in Hogsmeade, darling."
Hermione heard a loud crash from her bedroom, and hastily turned to Andrew. "Ron's. . . owl is in there, and it's making quite a racket."
"I'll get rid of it," he said, as he began to move for the room.
"No! I mean, I haven't given it the letter I need it to deliver yet, so there's really no point."
"Oh." Andrew stopped moving. "So, are you ready to go, or do I need to wait a moment?"
"Look, this is a very bad time. I'm really sorry, but I just can't go with you today." Andrew looked taken aback.
"But Herms," he began, but Hermione cut him off.
"I'm sorry. I can't go." She began to usher him towards the door.
"You will remember about Thanksgiving, though?" Hermione sighed. She'd almost forgotten about Thanksgiving. Andrew had numerous American relatives, all of them from his mother's side, and he had grown up celebrating the holiday. Hermione knew she was supposed to celebrate it with him, she just didn't know when, or where.
Hermione searched her brain for whatever she was supposed to remember. "Oh! Dinner, at- at that restaurant. You see, about that- "
"Herms, it's a very important, expensive place. You don't just make reservations and then break them! Besides, I told you about this weeks ago."
"I'm sorry, Andrew. I'll be a bit tied up for a while. Soon, though." Sighing, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. Hermione smiled as she heard another crash in the bedroom.
"Well, I'll owl you, ok love?" Nodding, she shut the door. When she returned to her bedroom, she found Ron trying to scramble back to his original place in her bed. The bedside table lamp was on the floor.
"Eavesdropping?" She questioned, slyly. Then she began laughing, for the first time in over a week. Ron laughed too, knowing that for some reason she wasn't mad at him.
The days passed, and slowly, Ron began to improve. He could sit up in bed, the burns were lighter, and the gashes were smaller. Hermione had even left him alone, when she'd gone to the Burrow to collect some of his things.
She wanted, more than anything, to know what had happened to him, but he had not volunteered that information, and she didn't intend to ask. If he didn't want to tell her, he didn't have to.
~~~
Soon, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Ron had turned all bright and cheery when Hermione told him. She was amazed that Ron had ever heard about the American holiday, but he explained to her that before Bill had settled down in Egypt, he had been stationed throughout the world. He had lived in America for almost two years. When he returned to the Burrow one November, he'd shared the American holiday with the rest of the family.
"And I'm glad he did!" When she laughed, he looked put out. "It's not funny, 'Mione! Thanksgiving is the best holiday of the year! There's turkey, and stuffing, and cranberries, and rolls, and. . ." He continued with his list, but Hermione didn't hear the rest. She was busy thinking. 'Of course Thanksgiving is Ron's favorite holiday. There's food!' Smiling to herself, she thought about it some more. Soon, she was determined to make that the best Thanksgiving of his life.
She went shopping that night, buying everything she would need to make dinner. The next morning, she set to work. She spent the entire day cooking turkey and making pie, determined to have all of his favorites for dinner that night.
As soon as she finished that evening, she made a tray that she carried into her bedroom. Ron's eyes grew wide at the sight, and he licked his lips hungrily, making her laugh. She sat down next to him on the bed, and began to feed him bits of turkey. It was then that her doorbell rang. Sighing, she told Ron that she would be back soon.
She opened the door to find Andrew, yet again. She held back a sigh. He was dressed impeccably, in a suit and tie. "Andrew, I told you, I can't go out tonight."
"Nonsense. You can, and you will."
"I can't. I'm sorry. I really am." It was then that she noticed her bedroom door. She had completely forgotten to close it! She gasped, and Andrew followed her gaze.
He walked over to the bedroom, nearly pushing Hermione out of his way. She protested as much as she could, but to no avail. Andrew walked into the room, and. . .
Hermione stifled a laugh. Ron was lying in the bed. There was a bandage around his head and a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. His cheeks were purple, and there was a pile of tissues near his right hand. Hermione couldn't decide whether he looked more like a war hero or a little kid, trying to get the day off from school.
"What's this?" Andrew asked, coldly and coolly.
"He's sick. Very sick. He has pneumonia."
"So you have skipped all of our dates in the last two weeks and are missing the most important dinner of our lives to take care of this- this- slacker?" Ron rolled his eyes. Couldn't the guy at least come up with something original? But Hermione's eyes flashed.
"Ronald Weasley is by no means a slacker. Don't you ever insult him again. Ever." Her voice had a scary coldness to it. Mentally, Ron backed away from her.
"So this is it? You would break a date with me just to take care of him? I don't think so. Hermione, you'll have to choose. You can't have both of us at once. It's either him, or me." Andrew moved to the door of the flat, as if he were going to leave.
Hermione pictured herself in five years. Waking up in the morning next to the man she loved, knowing that there were two sleeping children in the room next door. And the man she wanted to wake up next to was not Andrew. Not Andrew at all.
Slowly, she walked towards him. Ron felt his heart sink. Hermione looked up into her boyfriend's face. "That's sad, Andrew. I'm going to miss you." With that, she shut the door of her flat in his face.
When she returned to her bedroom Ron was staring at her openmouthed. She found the tray of food on a table next to the bed. Turning to him, she lifted the fork. "Hungry?"
~~*~~**~~*~~
Wow- another chapter finished. I hope you all liked that one. Please, review and tell me. And thank you to all of you who have reviewed already. Remember, you review mine, I'll review yours. I know I haven't done that yet, it was rather difficult to get to a computer in Disney World, but I'm going to spend the week reading/ reviewing your stories (and updating this one, of course). I'll thank you all individually soon, probably in the next chapter. Please, review! Thanks a ton~
~ Sugar High