Warm, comfortable blankets enveloped her; she wondered how long she had been there. It was so nice, so peaceful and she was so tired. She wanted to go back to sleep. But there had been something important, something she cared about that had returned. What had it been? Why couldn't she remember? Hermione forced her eyes open. The only light in the room emitted from her bed side table lamp. It was bright and forced her to squint her eyes until they adjusted. Out a window next to her, the sky was still black and glittering stars still twinkled merrily. In a chair next to the window, Moody slept with his head back against the wall, his cloaked draped over him like a blanket; Moody's scars on his face were relaxed like a rubber band being released after being held taught. Where is everyone? Hermione thought vaguely.
She pushed back the blankets around her and clambered out of bed. She looked down at her hands: there was some sticky red liquid that had dried on her hands. When she closed her hands, it creased and cracked. It was blood. In the shock of finding blood on her hands, Hermione's eyes widened and became pale. She quickly examined her body to look for a wound but found none. Low, whispering voices could be heard across the hall. Hermione, glancing at her hands once more, walked toward them.
A small crowd was gathered worriedly around a bed, among them being Harry, Remus, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Fred and George and their two older brothers, Bill and Charlie. Hermione pushed her way into the circle and looked at the occupier of the bed. It was Ron. Hermione's heart strings were pulled instantly and tears formed in her tired eyes.
"Oh, Ron," she whispered, stepping forward, closer to Ron. Remus stepped forward upon noticing her.
"Ah Hermione, common. You need to get a little bit of sleep. We've only just brought you home an hour or two ago," Remus tried to explain, turning her toward the exit.
"No, Remus, that's not fair. Please, just let me be with Ron," she whispered desperately, evading his grasp. Hermione sat on a small stool at his head and gently stroked Ron's hair. Remus made a move to take her by the arm but Tonks intervened, simply placing her hand on his shoulder. She said nothing, only looked at him intently and Remus nodded, stepping back.
Slowly and gradually people exited the room and Hermione was left alone with Ron. She felt her eyelids becoming heavy, but she fought to keep Ron's face in sight, his poor, bruised, pale face. Tears of fatigue sat in her eyes until Hermione blinked them out. Somebody had entered the room. They put a hand on her shoulder and stood with her. Hermione slowly slipped into sleep, her thoughts becoming fuzzy until she finally slept.
She was woken by a low, croaked moan that was long and drawn out. Hermione lifted her head off her arms, her brown curls sticking to her face stubbornly. Ron was stirring in his sleep, a grimace on his face and his hands tightly gripping his sheets. Hermione immediately sat up, fully awake.
"Ron?" she asked in a quiet voice, placing a hand on his arm. Ron's nightmare continued in his mind. Hermione put her hand on his forehead, worried. It was very warm and now she noticed that he was sweating at the brow. She pulled back her hand quickly, startled by the heat. Ron began to cough a hoarse, ingested cough; he coughed long and deeply, struggling to breathe. Hermione stood quickly and with a final, anxious glance at Ron, she ran out of the room and down the hall.
"Remus? Tonks? Harry?" she cried desperately, ducking into every room she encountered. Each one was empty and the only sounds were of her own cries and Ron's moans. Hermione's throat became dry as she hurried past a window that was illuminated with sunlight. "Fred? George!" she called, more frantically this time. The house was quiet. Hermione sped down the stairs, turning sharply into the kitchen. From its wide, open window she could see the Weasleys, Harry, Tonks and Remus outside. Her heart steadied only so slightly.
"Remus! Tonks! Help, Ron is really ill, please, come help me!" Hermione shouted, throwing open the door. They came immediately, thundering up the stairs behind her. Upon arriving in Ron's room, a foul stench greeted them. Ron had gotten sick in his bed and was deathly pale, shaking and groaning all over. Hermione rushed to his side, placing her sweating hand on his cheek. She sniffled at the sight of him, her sweet, wonderful boyfriend. Hermione bit her lip, fighting back tears.
Remus came forward and immediately began to examine him, reaching for his wand and muttering an unknown spell. Tonks came and wrapped her arms around Hermione in a very loving, maternal way. Hermione hugged her tightly, keeping her eyes on Ron as tears steadily flowed out. Someone's warm, comforting hand slipped into hers. Harry's grim but calm face appeared over Tonks' shoulder. Hermione fled to his arms. Harry held her in a way only a best friend can, taking in her misery, allowing her tears to fall on him, trying to take away the burden of fear. With that touch, Hermione calmed, as if she had released the worse of her feelings, setting into an upset, but calm attitude.
Mrs. Weasley sat fearfully at Ron's bedside, a handkerchief twisted into a wrinkled, damp rope. Her eyes were puffy and red; Bill tried to comfort her by allowing her to grasp her hand; she appreciated it, squeezing tightly with a shaking hand.
The room was silent for hours beside the sounds of women's tears and quiet whispers. Food was brought by Tonks and Charlie every now and then, but besides that, there was not much movement until nightfall. It was then that Remus finally sat down, sighing a long, deep sigh. He held his head in his hands and said nothing for some time. Finally Harry spoke into the silence.
"Remus?" His voice was quiet and steady, but Hermione felt him shaking behind her. Remus didn't look up and Tonks went to him for support, kneeling at his feet and placing her hand on his knee. His shaking hand gripped it as he looked up.
"As an auror, I know a lot about medicine and healing…I know probably more than most…but Ron's condition is beyond my…b-beyond me. I cannot heal him. Not even St. Mungo's..." Remus trailed off in a quiet voice.
"Then who can?" Mrs. Weasley whispered, mostly talking to herself.
"I have a friend. A-an acquaintance. He lives alone underground. He is a great healer. He used to tend to me when my transformations were…unusually painful. I believe he is the only one who can help," Remus said, looking around at everyone seriously. The room was silent and no one stirred as whispy, gray clouds covered the moon, shrouding the room in darkness.
A/N: Come on, you can't not review; this is one of those quiet, serious moments! Tell me if it was horrible or not, m'kay? Please!!