Vertigo
Disclaimer: Que sera, sera…
Wow, can't believe it's only been 2 chapters!
Updates: Nothing special…just some grammar stuff that I would have bugged me for all eternity if I didn't fix them.
"Harry?"
He opened one bleary eye and looked at the figure of the person who had woken him up. He had been having a wonderful dream about a motorcycle that flew, and he was a bit upset at being woken up.
"Harry, your glasses are ready."
Harry took the glasses and squinted at them. Round, black metal frames. He suddenly remembered a note from his first grade teacher that had practically forced his parents, or, whatever they had been, to take him to an optometrist. He put them on, and the world came into focus. He could see the sink in the counter, the box of latex gloves, and the fuzzy black box turned out to be a television. He noticed, for the first time, a gold nametag on the nurse's blouse.
"An-dree-ah M-mil-ler. Andrea Miller."
She looked up. "Yes?"
"That's you?"
"Oh, goodness!" She looked slightly flustered. "My, it's been three days, and you didn't know my name! Well, now, come to think about it, no one's ever told you, and, well, I suppose you couldn't see, so, no matter. You know now, and that's all that matters."
Harry nodded.
"Now, you will be going through some remedial programs to help you re-adjust to the world. The police have long since given up on trying to figure out what had happened to you, so there will be no continuing investigation, and…" she trailed off, looking at the clipboard in her hands. "Oh, yes! In two weeks, you'll be moved to London, because our hospital doesn't have the facilities to monitor you and offer the weekly checkups that will be needed later on."
More nodding.
"Your first session is in 15 minutes, in room 403, so, rest up, and someone will come for you then." She left, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.
Hermione stepped neatly out of the fireplace, and over the ashy heap on the ground that was Ron. She dusted herself off, then pulled him up just in time to avoid being squashed by a slightly disoriented Ginny, who still managed to stay upright.
"Let's go." She took a deep breath, and started towards the opposite end of the hall, from the elevators.
The Atrium was just as busy as ever, with ministry workers both arriving and leaving. However, the other end of the hall was calm. There was simply a coin slot and a sheet of glass in the wall.
As the trio arrived, they each deposited a sickle and stepped through the glass.
The inside was exactly like a museum exhibit. Glass display cases on the walls and red ropes guarding open stands showed a little bit from the wars. The wands of great heroes and villains from long ago, and such. They had even managed to obtain the remnants of the former Horcruxes.
They moved down the halls, sometimes passing exhibits, sometimes stopping. They paused briefly at the enlarged, moving photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix, and at the portraits of Sirius, Dumbledore, and Snape, who nodded in recognition as they passed.
Finally, at the end of the hall, was their final objective: the section entirely devoted to the great Harry Potter. His invisibility cloak, his Firebolt, his original wand, several photographs (Donation of Colin Creevey), and an oil portrait that looked down at them with a sad smile.
Ginny stared up at the portrait, feeling hot tears burning her eyes. The entire world seemed to disappear, and it felt like it was just them, together by the lake at Hogwarts again…
Suddenly, a sob brought her out of her trance. Hermione was crying heavily onto Ron's shoulder, while he patted her on the shoulder.
Ginny took a deep breath. She glanced one more time around the room, then she and Ron gently guided Hermione through the exit.
"I miss him so much!" she wailed through tears.
"We all do, Hermione, but," Ginny sniffed despite herself, "he's gone, and we have to move on."
"I know. But we can't stop coming here!"
"We won't. He was our best mate. We can't forget about him," Ron reassured her.
Hermione nodded, drying her eyes on a handkerchief.
"Besides, I bet he's happy. He's with his parents, and Dumbledore, and Sirius."
Hermione gave a small smile. "Don't use so many 'ands'."
Ginny rolled her eyes, and they all laughed. "C'mon, let's go get some coffee."
A few minutes later, the three of them ate ice cream outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor. They were going to get coffee, but after much whining from Ron, they had settled on hot ice sundaes outside, in the winter snow.
"After this, can we go visit Fred and George?"
"We just saw them last week, Ron!" said Ginny, sucking on a cherry.
"You only want to buy more of their pranks!" Hermione chided, sticking a steaming spoonful of vanilla into her mouth. "Besides, except for the Auror academy, you don't have anywhere to use them anymore!"
Ron looked at the both of them, and opened his mouth to reply.
"Don't even think about it!" Ginny said sharply.
"What?" Ron protested innocently.
"You know what I mean."
Suddenly, a snowball came out of nowhere and hit Ron on the back of his head. When he whipped his head around to see where it had come from, another one came from the other direction, this time, hitting him in the face when he turned back to face the table.
When he stormed inside to get some tissues, Hermione giggled, and when Ginny looked questioningly at her, she pulled her wand out from under the table. Ginny understood at once, and the two of them burst into laughter, but abruptly stopped when Ron returned.
He glared suspiciously at the two, and then settled lazily back into his chair.
"Ahh, after Christmas, it's back to the Auror academy, no more boring schoolwork at Hogwarts!" he sighed.
"And who should you be thanking for that?" reminded Hermione.
"You," he mumbled grudgingly.
"And why?"
"Because if you hadn't gotten our teachers to keep giving us lessons to complete our NEWTS, we would still be in our seventh year at Hogwarts, instead of pursuing our careers," he recited.
"Exactly."
"Well, don't you two forget that somebody needs to take her NEWTS!" Ginny grumbled.
"No, we haven't forgotten," Ron smiled gloatingly. Then, he turned to Hermione. "I still can't believe why you would choose the Department of Experimental Magic over being and auror."
"Well, I think I'd rather prefer something calmer, and, also, I could one day work in the Department of Mysteries," she replied simply, making swirling patterns in the ice cream with her spoon.
"An Unspeakable? Really?"
"It sounds interesting. Besides, I did the six month basic auror training with you, so if ever there is need, I can fight, but I do like my current job!" Hermione was starting to sound defensive.
"It's a desk job!"
"That doesn't mean that it's not interesting!"
"Can we talk about something else?" Ginny ventured tentatively. Both of their voices were getting louder, Hermione's eyes were adopting a glint, and Ron's ears were looking pink.
"Fine," Ron crossed his arms and glared, while Hermione rolled her eyes dismissively at him.
"Great. Soo, um…hey! Why don't we head over to Fred and George's now?"
"Wait, just let me finish this up," mumbled Ron thickly through a mouthful of chocolate ice cream.
"Ron, you've got, ugh, here." Hermione reached across the table, and scooped a stray drip of ice cream off of his cheek with a napkin.
Then, of course, the two of them blushed profusely, while Ginny smirked.
"Well, if you two are quite done, let's go."
"Sure, yeah, okay." They gathered their stuff, and stepped out into the harsh wind that had started to blow.
Christmas!
Ginny woke up early in the morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon. Mmmm, delicious!
Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled down the stairs, only to find Hermione on a kitchen stool with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. "Morning, 'Mione."
Hermione gave a half smile in response.
"Yeah, I know that only Ron calls you that when he's got his mouth full, but it's too early to sound out your ridiculously long name."
"Hey!"
"Well, you can't say that I'm lying. I mean, half the time, you get 'Hermy-own', and don't forget 'Herm-own-ninny'!"
Hermione laughed at that. "Oh, to be young again…" she smiled reminiscently.
"It was four years ago."
"Still, there are a lot of memories from that year. SPEW, the Triwizard Tournament…"
"Viktor Krum?"
At that, her cheeks took on a rosy flush. "And what about Michael Corner?" she countered.
"He was an idiot. Hey, remember that huge blow-out you had with Ron?"
"Ginevra, dear, do elaborate." Fred and George had just came racing down the stairs.
"What?"
"Well, you see, these, ahem, 'blow-outs', as you put it, happen ever so frequently…"
"It's getting ever harder to keep track of them…"
"And yet, they refuse to declare their undying love for each other." George cocked an eyebrow at Hermione, who was trying to both keep a neutral face and hide behind her mug.
"Wuzz goin' on?" Ron had just wandered into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in awkward angles.
"Oh, we were just discussing you and…" Fred glanced over at Hermione, who was glaring with ever muscle in her face, "…Pig."
"Whaz zere to talk about in zat?" Ron slurred sleepily.
"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Ginny, trying her best not to fall over with laughter.
"Great…" He tottered over to the sink, turned on the tap, and dunked his head under the jet. "Have you guys opened your presents yet?" he blubbered.
Their eyes widened.
"I was waiting for the others."
"I was talking to Hermione!"
"We were talking to them!"
Ron removed his head from the sink, and shook his head, causing the water from his hair to spray the others. "Well, why aren't you guys opening them now?" He sounded a lot more alert now.
They all raced to the tree in the living room, where they found Molly and Arthur on the couches wearing bemused expressions.
"We were wondering where you all were. When Hermione left to get hot chocolate, we thought you would be arriving sooner, and…Ron, why is your hair all wet?" Molly asked.
"It's nothing, mum."
"Alright then, open your presents, oh, and also, Charlie and Fleur will be joining us around noon."
Ron's head popped up eagerly from within the sea of wrapping paper. "Really?"
Hermione gave a very audible scoff from where she sat, pulling her new jumper over her head.
"What!"
The two girls rolled their eyes.
"Yes, they're coming. They're not staying over; they're just going to drop by for lunch."
"Great."
"Now, I have fresh cinnamon buns in the oven. Let's go."
They gathered up their presents, and filed out into the dining room.
Ta-daa! Sooo, tell me what you think! PLEASE, PLEEASE! ahem Thank you.