Disclaimer - You know by now!
A/N - I couldn't think of a good title for this chapter, if anyone comes up with something better (let's face it, it's not hard!) please let me know!
As Bossy As Ever
"Where's Chloe?" George asked a plump, kind looking Healer, his voice sounding croaky.
"Who dear?" she replied.
"Chloe Thomas, an auror. She was hit with some sort of curse, I don't know what, she collapsed, I don't know where she's gone or what happened to her."
"I imagine they've taken her to the hospital dear, everyone seriously injured was taken straight there. Now drink some of this Calming Draught, there's a good boy."
"I'm not six years old anymore!" George shouted in frustration. "I want to know where she is!" The Healer looked shocked by his outburst, thrust the potion into his hand and hurried away to tend to someone else. It was only then George noticed Charlie making his way towards him, sporting a heavily bandaged arm. He jumped up, and clutched his brother's tee shirt.
"Charlie, where is she? Is she OK?" Charlie sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.
"She's alive George," he replied, not even needing to ask who the 'her' was, "she's in St. Mungo's. Mum's with her at the moment. No one can work out what curse hit her, so they're not sure if she'll make it." George's mouth fell open, and he felt his eyes fill with tears.
"What about everyone else? Fred, and Moody and everyone?"
"Fred's OK, he's stable. Ron was hit pretty badly with the Cruciatus, and he's covered in cuts from that window, but he's alive, and they say he looks like he'll make a full recovery. Hermione's sorting him out," he added with a smirk, which was quickly replaced with a sombre expression, "Kingsley, Moody, Freya and Tonks are in St. Mungo's as well, all stable. Dawlish, Madame Hooch and Ben Bones are all dead."
"Ben Bones," George said, straining his memory for where he had heard the name before, "isn't that…"
"Chloe's ex, yeah." Charlie cut him off, scratching his chin.
"What happened to your arm?"
"Oh, nothing major," Charlie replied, smiling sheepishly, "just a cut. Quite deep though, the Healer told me. But I bet everyone's sporting some sort of injury, at least superficial. You've got a nice fat lip there yourself."
"And bruised ribs." George said, wincing. "Am I allowed to go see Chloe?" Charlie shrugged.
"Don't see why not. You'll have to Floo though; I don't think anyone's bothered to lift the anti-apparition charm yet."
George raced to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, barely noticing the damage done to the shop. He reached the fireplace, grabbed a handful of glittering Floo powder and panted
"St. Mungo's!"
The flames turned green, and stepping into them, George felt the familiar whirling sensation. It was only when he stumbled into the crowded reception of the hospital he realised he had still been holding the Calming Draught, the majority of which was spilt down his dirty, blood splattered tee shirt.
"Chloe Thomas? Auror? Hit by some sort of curse?" he asked the harassed looking Welcome Witch.
"Battle casualty? Down the hall, third ward on the right." she replied, not even looking up from her papers.
"Thanks." he called over his shoulder, running to the ward.
Peering through the glass door, he saw both his parents sat next to a bed he assumed was Chloe's. He opened the door as quietly as possible, and recognised every one of the wards occupants from the recent battle. Reaching his parents, he realised they were in fact sat between Chloe and Ron's beds. He placed a hand on his mothers shoulder.
"Mum? Are they OK?" Mrs. Weasley turned around, and George saw her eyes were red and bloodshot from crying, and she was clutching a handkerchief to her chest.
"Yes dear, the Healer for this ward said that Ron would be weak for a few days, but from what they could tell there'd be no lasting damage. And they patched his face up just lovely, look, you can't see any cuts." George interrupted his mother's tearful speech.
"What about Chloe?" Mr Weasley spoke this time, clearing his throat to compose himself.
"They still don't know what hit her, so they're not sure if there'll be any lasting damage, but they're sure she'll live."
"I always said it was a dangerous job for a girl!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, before bursting into tears again. At that point, Hermione marched into the room, her forehead beaded with sweat.
"We know what it was MacNair used. She may be confused when she wakes up, but after some rest she should make a full recovery."
"What do you mean, should?" George asked, at the same time Mr. Weasley asked,
"But what curse was it?" Hermione looked flustered.
"We're not actually one hundred percent sure of the exact curse, but we know the effects it will have caused. But to be honest, we think that that particular curse just finished her off, so to speak, and it was the previous injuries she'd sustained that caused her collapse. We say should because we cannot guarantee anything George. You know that. But we're confident she'll be fine."
George exhaled, and Mrs. Weasley's sobs lessened. Mr. Weasley sank into the chair between the beds, and buried his head in his hands.
"I'm going to have to wake her up in a minute though to do another check on her. And I'm going to have to tell her about Ben too." Hermione added.
"Were they still together?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"No, they split up a few weeks ago. I don't think they were ever really serious, but I know she cared for him a great deal, they were good friends." At Hermione's words, Mrs. Weasley began to cry again.
"Oh, the poor thing. First her parents, and now this, and she's hurt…" her words were lost in a torrent of sobs and Mr. Weasley put an arm around his wife's shoulders and led her outside.
"It won't do Chloe any good to see Molly like this." he explained. "It'll just upset her. George, you'll stay with Chloe won't you? And if Ron wakes up tell him we've just gone for a cuppa. We won't be long." George nodded, sitting in the seat his father had just vacated. Hermione and his parents left, and he looked from Ron to Chloe. Ron's face was indeed patched up lovely, with almost no evidence of the recent battle, apart from some bruises. In contrast, Chloe had a black eye, a long, angry looking gash down her left cheek, and a split lip, as well as bruises and cuts on her arms. Hermione re-entered the ward, pushing a trolley loaded with bottles and tubs.
"George, could you just give me a minute?" Hermione asked quietly. George nodded and stood next to the window at the end of the ward, looking out. Hermione pulled the curtains around Chloe's bed, and George could hear muffled conversation from behind them. A few minutes later, Hermione reappeared and drew back the curtain, revealing a wide-awake Chloe. Her black eye had faded considerably, though her lip was still swollen, and the cut on her cheek was as vivid as it had been. She smiled at George, though it appeared more of a grimace.
"'Sup?" she asked, ace contorting with the effort of speaking. George made his way to the chair next to her bed.
"How are you?" He asked. She shrugged.
"How's everyone else? Hermione told me about…about Ben." George lowered his eyes.
"I'm sorry Clo. Were you, I mean, did you love him?" Chloe exhaled heavily.
"I did, but not in any romantic sense. Not really. He was a good friend to me though, and I'll miss him a lot. George, I can't really remember it, what happened?"
"Um, Merlin, where do I start? Well, me, Fred and Remus got to the battle a little later than you did, but not before you killed Lestrange. Ron here got hit by the Cruciatus and then chucked through a window by Draco Malfoy, Fred's stable, but he was a bit battered, Harry got You Know Who,"
"George," Chloe interrupted, "will you please call him Voldemort? How are you? You look a bit bruised and that."
"I'm fine Clo. Just a fat lip and some bruised ribs, I think."
"Have you had them checked?" George shook his head. "Well, you should have! George, go and get yourself sorted out!"
"I've been a little bit too worried about you and Ron and Fred to be getting something like a fat lip checked out Chloe! I thought you were bloody dead!" Chloe leant back on her pillows, apparently silenced by George's retort.
"Well, now you know I'm not dead, will you please get checked out? You could have broken ribs." George chuckled, got up and started to leave the ward.
"Even when you're lying in hospital bandaged up to the eyeballs you're as bossy as ever!" He called over his shoulder. Chloe snorted.
"Y'know George Weasley, some people would call it concern, not bossiness!"