Not Over Yet

Chapter 2

A/N: Well, here's Chapter 2. Now, I really advise you to read Nothing Boring About A War. Some of the points in the second half will be a bit fuzzy, like a few characters mentioned and just how the Death Eaters broke into the Tower. Anyway, this chapter is Hermione and Ginny. A dash of RHr is also evident in this one. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and maybe Warner Brothers. But mostly Rowling, I suppose. :) The only people I own in this are Healer Bretford, Kirke, Paul and Alex.

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There was a striking smell in the air. The smell of something unbearably clean, white and starch-looking. The smell of magic was there too; of spells, and a whiff of something that she might have smelled in the Potions classroom. Hermione knew that smell. She had smelled it before. Not a smell she sniffed often, but still in her memory.

Hermione opened her eyes.

The scene somewhat matched the smell. Clean, white sheets, white-washed walls and sunlight pouring in through a window above her head. Slowly, she raised her head. Her body ached with the movement, but she didn't pay much attention to it. There were many other beds surrounding her. There were heads peeking over the bed sheets, and most of them were sound asleep. A few were sitting up, having what seemed to be breakfast.

Upon seeing her rise, these people smiled at her, and a few raised their spoons in greeting.

Hermione smiled back, slightly confused, and raised her hand, greeting them back. To her surprise, her right arm was wrapped up in a sort of cast; it looked much like a large glove.

Slowly, the memories of how that came to be came back to her. The battle. Her wand exploding in her face, Nagini attacking Ron...

Ron.

The previous feeling of quiet peace seemed to evaporate before her eyes. She couldn't see the smiling people around her, or the starch white of the place. All she saw was darkness, and a huge serpent sinking its fangs into Ron's side. And the look of pain and horror that showed on his face.

She looked around, eyes darting from bed to bed, looking for a sign of bright red hair, or messy black. But she never found them.

Heart thumping loudly, she swung her legs off the bed. A cold shiver went up her legs as her skin made contact with the cool floor. She realised that many eyes were looking her direction now. Ignoring their incredulous stares, she stood up, and wrapped her blanket around herself. It was unusually cold, and the thin material she was wearing didn't really help.

Barefooted, she walked with as much dignity as she could muster towards the door. The doorknob was as cold as the floor, sending chills up her fingers. She pushed it open, and trotted down the corridors. They were empty, which she was thankful for. Staring about, her eyes found a large plaque with a number '4'. Hermione knew immediately that this was indicating the floor she was on.

She thought back to her last visit to the hospital, and recalled the floor guide she had seen. If Ron was in the hospital, he would be in ... the Creature-Induced Injuries floor. Thinking further, Hermione remembered the floor number.

With that, she strode on purposefully, her feet barely making a sound on the clean, marble floor. Portraits of witches and wizards watched her go by, many with surprised expressions on their faces.

'Shouldn't you be in bed?' asked one prim-looking witch.

'I'm looking for someone,' said Hermione shortly.

Finally, she came across a plaque reading '1'. She felt frightened now. She wanted to see Ron, badly. But along with that emotion was the feeling of dread, hanging about her like a great big raincloud. What if he wasn't there? He could be anywhere ... he could be ... but she refused to think about it. But whatever happened, she hoped that the raincloud wouldn't burst into a flood of bitter tears.

She rounded a corner, and without warning, bumped into a young man in lime-green Healer's robes. Hermione fell back in surprise, as the young man landed on the floor, the paperwork in his arms threatening to tip over. 'I'm sorry -' he began, before he caught sight of her attire. He stared, mouth slightly open. 'Ma'am?' he spluttered, straightening the paperwork in his arms, 'shouldn't you be in bed?'

Hermione would have laughed if the situation had allowed her to. 'I'm looking for someone,' she said for the second time that morning, standing up and wrapping her blanket closer around her. 'I would like to know ... would you happen to know which ward Ronald Weasley is in? And Harry Potter?'

'You really shouldn't be wandering around the halls alone like this -' the young man said, looking indignant. 'I should bring you back to your - sorry? Whose ward?' now he just looked confused.

Hermione took a deep breath and repeated what she had said before.

'Oh. The Chosen One ... Potter? And ... Weasley?'

She nodded, refraining from rolling her eyes.

'Oh. Yes. Well, Mr Potter was discharged this morning. Healer Bretford said that he's perfectly fine, nothing a simple Sleeping Potion can't cure, and lots of rest. As for Mr Weasley, he's in ward ... hold on,' he flipped through his stack of parchment, muttering to himself. A minute later, he pulled out a sheet with a flourish and smoothed it out. 'Mr Ronald Weasley,' he read, 'Poisonous snake bite, first floor, Dai Llewellyn Ward,' he looked up at her, 'I could bring you there, if you want. The paperwork can wait for a minute or two.'

'Er ... I think I could find it easily enough by myself, thanks,' said Hermione uncertainly. She was grateful for his offer, but she couldn't stand being around somebody so ... so cheerful, at that moment. Not when her own thoughts were centered on death and destruction.

'No, no, it's fine, like I said, the paperwork can wait,' said the young man eagerly, slipping the parchment back into the stack. He smiled warmly, and on second thought, Hermione decided that a bit of cheer would do her good.

The rest of her journey was, without doubt, a mixture of good morning cheer, (courtesy of Kirke, the Healer) and the before mentioned raincloud of dread. She tried to keep up with what Kirke was saying, but her mind kept wandering off.

If he was in a Ward, Ron should be alive. This was definitely a silver lining to her raincloud. But was he conscious? Just how much damage did the snake manage to -

'Er, Miss Granger?' Kirke waved an arm in her face. Hermione blinked. 'Sorry?'

'We're here.' he indicated the door on their left, which bore the words, 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites'. Immediately, Hermione thought of Mr Weasley, who had also been bitten by a snake in her fifth year. Nagini. The same snake.

Hermione reached forwards, and pulled the handle. The door opened easily, and she stood in the doorway, blanket still securely wrapped around her, and one hand in its cast.

There was a small silence. Then, a very familiar voice came, from within the room.

'Hermione?' croaked Ron, his torso wrapped in bandages, an expression of mingled surprise and relief on his face.

Without a second thought, Hermione ran towards him, the blanket lying forgotten at the door. She wrapped her arms around him, careful to not touch the wound. Ron hugged her back, and she couldn't have felt safer, in his warm - and very much alive - embrace. 'Hermione -' Ron began again, but before he could finish, she had her lips against his. At first, there was no response, and a small trickle of doubt entered her mind. But soon, he returned the kiss, and the feeling of doubt evaporated.

When they broke apart, Ron's blue eyes were wide. He raised a hand shakily, and stroked her hair. She leaned in closer, and she realised that there were tears in her eyes. 'Hermione,' said Ron uncertainly, eyeing her tear-filled eyes. 'Are you okay?' he reached up and brushed her tears away with his thumb, his face a faint shade of pink.

She met his eyes, and her fear of bursting into tears came true. But were they bitter tears? Most definitely not. 'Never better,' she sobbed, arms wrapped around his neck.

Kirke stood in the doorway, eyeing this scene with one hand hanging onto his stack of parchment, and the other dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. 'I've always liked happy endings,' he muttered to himself, before turning heel and striding away, blowing his nose as he went.

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Ginny shuffled along in the corridor, accompanied by a tearful Demelza Robins. The 'battle', as you might call it, had ended, and those with injuries were in the Hospital Wing. Ginny knew that visiting at this hour would prove unsuccessful; Madam Pomfrey didn't allow visitors after midnight. But it didn't hurt them to try.

They had won, if you might call it that. A few injuries, but one death. That was partially why Ginny and Demelza weren't actually conversing. They still needed it to sink in first. Ginny didn't know the boy - a fifth year - very well. But the fact that one of their number did fall was quite a shock. She had seen him, just before the 'battle' started. Standing with two of his friends, looking uncertain and jumping up when her classmate, Alex Walker, had punched the boy who had yelled at him for calling Neville a hypocrite.

She had seen him fall. A bright flash of green, his body being flung across the Common Room into a wall. If the curse hadn't killed him, the force of the impact of his body against the portrait-covered wall would have done him in anyway. Ginny wondered how close Demelza was to him. She was sniffing beside her, looking pale.

Ginny decided to break the silence. 'What was his name?' she asked quietly.

Demelza looked up, startled. She wiped her face with her sleeve. 'Paul. He wasn't in my year, but he was really nice to us fourth years. I can't believe he's gone,' she mumbled.

With a sigh, Ginny placed her hand on Demelza's shoulder. 'I didn't know him very well. But from what I saw of him before all this trouble, he seemed like a nice guy.'

Silence followed this. They strode on, side by side. 'Er ... Ginny?' Demelza said suddenly, 'Do you think Jimmy -'

But what Demelza had been trying to say about Jimmy, Ginny didn't find out.

For just then, a loud bang echoed throughout the corridors. Ginny and Demelza stiffened eyes wide open and staring. Then, another noise followed. A distant rushing sound, like water, but only louder, and more powerful. Demelza, looking startled, bent over and touched the floor. She looked up at Ginny, looking surprised. 'The floor is vibrating,' she said.

Ginny frowned and touched the floor. Sure enough, it shook underneath her fingers. Quickly, she straightened and took out her wand. 'Take out yours, too,' she whispered. 'You never know ...' Demelza took out her own wand, looking frightened and determined at the same time.

They sprinted towards the noise, the sound of their falling footsteps muffled by the louder rumbling. Suddenly, the noise stopped. So did Ginny. Demelza turned around, looking puzzled. Ginny listened, hard. But the only sounds she could hear was the drumming of her own heart, and her own ragged breathing. She took a few deep breaths, and turned around, trying to tell where the noise had come from. She paused, pointing down the corridor.

'Come on!' she called to Demelza, running along, eyes looking around for the source of the noise. She could hear Demelza's footsteps behind her, thudding along on the floor. Finally, she caught sight of a huge pile of rubble, and a hole in the ceiling. She stopped mouth slightly open. What had caused this?

Demelza stopped behind her, and gasped. 'Oh my goodness,' she whispered, staring at the wreck.

The pile of rubble was huge, and there was a thick blanket of dust covering everything. Waving her hand to clear the air, she came closer to the rubble, wand held firmly in front of her. She turned to Demelza.

'If there's a Death Eater in there, I want you to run. Got it? Run for help, and don't stand around,' it was surreal, hearing the words come out of her mouth. It sounded like the kind of thing Harry would say. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. 'Got it?' she repeated. Demelza looked uncertain, but nodded her head reluctantly.

She moved closer and closer to the wreck, and crouched down. Still keeping a firm hold on her wand, she moved bits of debris away, wary of anything underneath. She moved one of the bigger pieces, and was met with what looked like a head of dark brown hair. Very dust-covered brown hair. With a small cry, Ginny jumped back, wand held in front of her, heart beating twice as normal in her chest. She heard a small stumbling noise behind her.

'What is it?' called Demelza, rooted to the spot.

'I don't know,' said Ginny, as calmly as she could. 'I'm going to get a proper look. If I call out to you to run, run. Okay?' Once again, she approached the rubble. Slowly, she reached forwards and moved the chunks of ceiling surrounding the head. Finally, she managed to get a glimpse of its face. 'Neville!' she cried out in shock.

'What?' said Demelza from behind, sounding startled.

'It's Neville!' cried Ginny, dropping her wand and moving the rocks aside with both hands, frantically. 'Come here, help me get him out!'

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A/N: Gosh, I found this chapter oddly slow. Hermione's bit took me a while to plan out, and quite a fair amount of research. The second bit was much easier, but somehow, I'm not very satisfied. Anyway, please tell me what you think! All you need to do is press that there review button ... such a simple task! Please:puppy dog eyes: