I'm back! This chapter we find out exactly what happened to Voldemort last chapter but from Harry's perspective and see Ron react! I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!
Enjoy & review!
"Hermione."
As soon as Harry groans the name, Ron's forgotten about his intentions to calm his best friend.
Instead, he's now hell bent on the significance of him saying her name.
Surely it can't be good, can it? Maybe Harry knows where she is or maybe they've done something to her...
Ron shivers at the thoughts and it's just provoking him further to find out what it all means.
"Harry, what is it? What about Hermione?" He asks desperately, despite the moans of pain from the black haired boy.
"Ron." Someone, he thinks Lupin, warns.
He ignores them, "he just needs a minute. That's all." He tells the room hoarsely.
Molly soon drops to her knees and pushes a glass of water to Harry's lips. He greedily drinks it as it gives him the strength to come to.
As his eyes become less cloudy, Ron seems to take notice, using this to his advantage to continue his questioning.
"Harry what did he want? Did you see," and suddenly, now that he no longer has to worry if Harry's alright, he realizes he's too scared to hear about Hermione. If she's hurt or worse.
The chosen one seems to understand the direction this was going in and mustered all his strength to push up onto his elbows. Thankfully, Ron grabbed at him and gave him the support he needed as the pair met eye to eye.
And looking into Ron's blue pools of hope, Harry feels his own green ones glass over at what he just saw.
"Harry, did you see something? About Hermione?" Molly coaxes gently from her spot on her knees.
He nods. It's a strangled, painful thing.
"Where is she? Do you know where she is?" Fred asks rushed, panicked almost.
Ron doesn't have the will to question him, he's too stunned.
"No, I don't know, I can't, I just," Harry's hysterical, the worst anyone in the room as seen him, "Le, Lestrange, Dolohov, Worm," he begins to heave, "Wormtail and, and Greyback. Don't know the rest. Don't know." He's shaking his head like mad.
Moody steps forward and grasps his shoulder painfully, "pull yourself together Potter. Who else was there!" He shouts.
Molly moves to protest, but Arthur holds her back, knowing this is what Harry needed.
The Boy-Who-Lived clears his throat and takes several deep breaths, "the room it was so cold," he shivered, "it was dull. Empty, dust everywhere. The only thing I remember," Harry closes his eyes to visualize it, "was a chandelier. It was the only thing shining in the room, you couldn't miss it." He admonishes, hoping someone has an idea.
No one does. He goes on.
"Vol, Volde," he can't seem to get the name out, "You-Know-Who came, asked Hermione questions, but she wouldn't talk, didn't speak." The dark haired boy is crying again, "he said if she didn't talk he'd just have to make her sc, scream." Harry begins to cough, almost as is he is trying to throw something up but his attempts are fruitless.
"Harry," McGonagall starts lowly, sounding chocked up.
"Crucio!" He exclaimed wildly, "Bellatrix, she, Crucitaus Curse, Hermione, she wouldn't scream." A few gasps sounded within the room, Ron didn't know what to do, "then he, he did it and, her scream, Merlin, her scream." Harry moaned in anguish.
Ginny collapsed into her fathers embrace as dull sniffles filled the room.
"Never gonna stop hearing that," he said again, forcing his eyes shut to try and drown out her shriek, "so sorry Ron. So sorry, I can't, I'm so sorry."
In all his years of living, all the trauma he's faced, never has Harry been so hysterical, so torn up. It was so bad, Ron even spared a moment to feel for him despite all his worry for Hermione.
"Is she alive Harry?" George asks desperately from his spot on the couch, "Harry is she alive?" He repeats louder, standing to his full height.
He cowers a little at the scream, but eventually Harry nods slowly, almost reluctantly. Like he isn't sure of this himself.
And Ron notices. Of course he does.
"Well," the ginger starts almost bitterly, "what are we waiting for?" He bites out.
Everyone in the room exchanges looks, no one wanting to tell him. Moody is the one who does it.
"What do you suppose we search every effing building in England with a chandelier?" He grunts.
"If that's what it takes." Ron says like it's simple.
A tense silence falls upon the room, Harry begins mumbling something before it eventually becomes coherent. "We have to, before it's too late..." he says quietly.
Ron explodes without missing a beat, "too late? Too late huh!" He screams, causing his mother to flinch.
"Ron, I," Harry is trying to stand, but he's too weak.
"No," Weasley gets up, "no, don't you talk like this. None of this would've happened if you could just stay fucking put!" He spits, "but you couldn't help yourself, could you? Just had to be the bloody hero! Had to run after Lestrange huh?" His tone can only be described as venomous.
Ron is known to be temperamental, but this was a whole other level. Something no one in the room has ever witnessed.
More tears absently fall from Harry's green eyes. Everyone else looks shocked, save for his Mum whose moved to brush back some of his best mates hair.
"Ron," Harry tries again once becoming more composed.
"Hermione's smarter than anyone in this room," he turns and makes a move to point at McGonagall, making his twin brothers gasp, "anyone!" He emphasizes this time wagging his finger at Dumbledore. "So if anyone can make it through this, it's Hermione. So don't," he rounds back to Harry, "don't you dare say that." Ron finishes heaving.
As he finished Harry expels a horrible, painful noise, and for a minute Ron thinks it's You-Know-Who again. He soon realizes it's just the chosen ones painful cries.
Suddenly wracked with guilt, the tall boy drops to his knees and makes a move to console his friend.
"Harry no," he's about to cry too, "I didn't mean it. I promise. It's my fault. All my fault." He promises rushed.
And it's true. Harry wasn't the one who did nothing despite knowing Hermione was about to stun him. Harry wasn't the one whose life Hermione saved. Harry wasn't the one who couldn't even move as much as his fucking pinky as he heard Hermione apparate away.
That wasn't Harry, it was Ron.
However, his words have ample effect. The dark haired boy continues to shake, both in exhaustion from his vision and reeling from Ron's words.
Soon enough, Molly slips something past his lips that Lupin handed her, making Harry go slack on the floor. The ginger soon realizes it's a sleeping draught.
"No!" He yells, "no why would you do that?" He accuses his Mum with blurry eyes.
"Ronnie, he was struggling." Molly tried to sound soft, despite wanting to slap her son silly for talking to Harry that way. However, she could tell he was in so much pain, he didn't mean it. She just hoped he knew too.
"You-Know-Who, he, he comes to him in dreams. Now he can't, won't know where Hermione is." He shook his head vigorously.
"Ron, we know you want Hermione back, everyone here wants it too. Harry as well, so he's no good to anyone in that state, especially Hermione." Bill interjected.
Ron doesn't know what to say. There's not much at this point. He's so exhausted, he's torn between collapsing, shaking Harry awake to apologize, and trying to teach himself apparition just to get to Hermione. It's so tiring.
"I don't," he chokes, "I don't know what to do. I didn't even mean it. I'm just," he cries, making everyone's heart clench as Ron hunches over Harry's sleeping forward.
George stands, "come on Ronnie." He whispers, slowly pulling him off the ground, supporting most of his weight as his brother sways.
Next, George calls to Fred and Charlie before weakly pointing to where Harry was laying. They got the memo and together lifted The-Boy-Who-Lived from the wooden floor, taking him to the attic. On the way, Molly had slipped the extra sleeping draught into Charlie's hand with a weak smile.
With a lot of grunts and a bit of struggle, they eventually reached Ron's room on the top floor. George escorted Ron into his own bed as Charlie and Fred placed Harry on his.
The youngest Weasley's eyes were fixed on Harry, who looked rather peaceful, but his blue eyes were full of guilt.
"Take this." George said grabbing the draught from Charlie, stepping in front of Ron as means to block his view from his dark haired mate.
"What?" He says eyeing it, "no." The red head boy says.
"Ron." George practically grumbled.
"No," he shakes his head, "no, what if," he starts.
"If anything happens, we will wake you. It'll just be for a few hours. You need the rest, clear your head, be sharpest for tomorrow. That's when the searching starts." The twin said, voice uncharacteristically soft.
Flicking his gaze between his older brother and the small bottle in his hand, Ron defeatedly took it. He knew George was right, he had to be at his best to get to Hermione, and though he wished it were different, odds were that wouldn't be happening tonight.
So, Ron took a generous sip, just enough for a good rest, but for joke more then necessary.
"Good night Ronnie." Fred called from the door where his three brothers had gathered, making a move to extinguish the candle flames with his wand.
Ron lifted his head slightly, before it fell heavy against his pillow, wanting to remind them to wake him if everything happened. The words died on his lips as darkness took over.
He doesn't know how long he's in enveloped in nothingness before a voice becomes apparent, echoing through the abyss.
"Wake up Ron, wake up." A familiar voice sounds as his body feels slightly jostled.
He groans, hoping to fall into a wonderful dream about Hermione's warm smile and bright eyes.
His efforts are futile. Whoever it is, won't leave him.
"Ronnie, get up!" He comes to realize it's Bill's voice. What also registers, is his plea to be awoken if any news came.
And with that, he snaps his blue eyes open to stare at his seemingly flustered brother.
"What is it?" He asked, his voice way too clear and demanding for someone who just was sleeping.
"It's Hermione." Bill says softly.
He shucks the covers off, the first thought is that she's dead, she must be. But, part of him knows, he can feel it's not true.
His oldest brothers mouth is moving, but Ron doesn't care, the only words that register are 'living room', before he's trampling down the steps.
And then he sees her.
She's sitting on the couch, dirt and blood cover her smooth skin. His first instinct is to hurl at the sight, being reminded of how vile they treated her. However, even though her hairs matted, skin scarred, and eyes watery, she's here. She's back and she's still gorgeous.
"Hermione." Ron says breathlessly.
Then, her big brown eyes meet to him, a terrified expression melting into something sweet. Almost full of adoration, love.
It's like the whole room disappears.
At the sight of him, Hermione stands on shaky legs, Ron responds by rushing over, never willing to let her fall again.
But before he can hold her, he realizes the room quiet literally disappeared. Suddenly, the oak tree stands tall nearby.
Not willing to question it, too enthralled by the sight of her, he ignores it and stretches out his long fingers, desperate to brush her skin. Desperate to know she's real.
But, Hermione stops him, "why didn't you come find me?" Her voice is broken, a sound that pierces Ron's heart.
"Hermione, I," he begins hoarsely, apologies dying on his tongue.
"Why didn't you come find me?" She repeats, this time her tone is somehow more gut wrenching.
The sound alone causes him to close his eyes, willing her out of his sight for the first time since she's gotten back.
Soon, he's determined to open them again, missing the sight of the witch, ready to apologize, to make things as right as can be.
But when he does, a wand is pressed into Hermione's jugular as she whispers. From behind, Bellatrix Lestrange stands, mad grin on her face.
"Why didn't you come find her?" She asks through a cackle.
He's crying before he knows it, "take me! It's me you want! Please!" He begs.
Bellatrix pretends to think about it for a moment before fiercely tugging at Hermione's hair, "no, I don't think I will." She smiles.
Ron can see the wand press harder into the expanse of Hermione's neck, making her cry out. Then, Bellatrix Lestrange smiles, a sickening, horrible looking thing.
Piercing her dark eyes into blue ones, she bares her rotted teeth, "Avada kedavra." Lestrange whispers happily.
A jet of green light flashed from the edge of Bellatrix's wand.
"No!" Ron cried out as Hermione let's out a gut wrenching scream. One he doesn't think he can ever scrub from his mind.
Ron woke with a start. A cold sweat over his both like a sheet. At first, he figured is mind couldn't take the images it had conjured up, that was why he woke. However, as the buzzing and echo in his head of Hermione's scream fades, his ears welcome a new sound. Sounds of anguish just in the bed nearby.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes snap open.
"It's him."
Ron isn't the only one having bad dreams.
And done! Please let me know what you guys think by reviewing! It means the world. Until next time, he's a preview:
"What is this for?" Draco couldn't help but ask as he followed his aunt out of the large kitchen.
"You see Draco, we have a prisoner in the dungeons. The Dark Lord has trusted you it." She says like it's an honor.
"Me?" He can't help he retort, "why me and not some elf?"
Yep that's right folks, next time we get a Draco appearance as the point of view switches back to Hermione.
Until next time! Please review!
