This one is very long. I had originally planned to make it into a stand-along story, but I started it three years ago and I'm bored of it now!! Set a day or two after the ministry.

Bedside Manner - TOOTP

Ron couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to since they had gone to the Ministry two nights ago, to rescue Sirius. Ha. Rescue him. How ironic.

It was so hard to believe that he was really gone. Padfoot. Snuffles. Sirius. He wasn't going to be waiting for them all to arrive this summer if they went to Grimmauld Place again. He wasn't going to be writing stern letters to Harry, telling him to be careful. He wasn't going to be around to make fun of Snape. He was gone. Dead. Deceased.

No matter how many times Ron thought it, he still couldn't bring himself to believe it.

He'd comforted Ginny while she'd sobbed her heart out the morning before, seen how Remus had looked as though he had died himself the morning after the Ministry, and heard exactly how it had happened from Neville, but everything had still seemed unreal.

Ron knew that there was probably nothing he could have done to help, but couldn't help feeling guilty. Sirius died and where was he? Being attacked by brains. He felt so pathetic.

Ron rolled over onto his back, staring up at the darkness of the ceiling above him. It had been like this since they had been brought back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey had treated his wounds and given him a sleeping draught that had knocked him out for a few hours, but that was all the sleep he'd had. He knew he could get another sleeping draught if he asked for it, but he didn't want it. Ron didn't want to escape. He wasn't a coward.

What he did want was to talk. He'd had a constant stream of visitors over the past two days- his parents, several of his teachers, Fred and George had come in for a few hours with Bill, he'd seen Tonks, Moody and Mundungus, Dumbledore, had had a very brief conversation with Remus, and Ginny, Luna and Neville were in the wing whenever they could spare the time. But he couldn't speak to any of them. Not really.

He needed Harry.

Ron could understand why his best friend was staying away but it was still frustrating. He couldn't help being worried about him; he knew that bottling everything inside, as Harry was prone to do, was the last thing he should do now. If he could just see him, just to know he was okay.

And then there was Hermione.

Though Madam Pomfrey repeatedly assured him that there would be no lasting damage he wasn't too sure he believed her. She hadn't woken up, and with every hour that passed Ron was getting more and more worried.

What if there was lasting damage? What if she didn't wake up? Ron swallowed hard as he once again felt the familiar sensation of sick fear wash over him. What if she died as well?

Hard as it was to cope with the death of Sirius, Ron knew that he wouldn't even be able to begin to deal with the loss of Hermione. She was his best friend- they'd been through everything together for five years. Who would he argue with if she went?

Ron turned on his side and buried his face in his pillow, cursing his stupid brain for bringing that up. He'd been such an awful friend- he knew it. He was continually looking to pick a fight with Hermione, and he just didn't know why. He did know what it was like to live without her though, and thinking back to his second year Ron also knew that he didn't want to go through it again. It was without a doubt the worst few months of his life so far, and he'd been able to see her everyday then. She had still been alive. If she were dead, really gone, wouldn't it be a thousand times worse?

Ron had never told Hermione that he trusted her and Harry more than anyone in the world. That for all his teasing and grouching he thought she was brilliant. He'd never let her win at chess. He'd never told her that she was his best friend. And now it might be too late.

Ron couldn't see Hermione's bed through the darkness, but knew that he was looking directly at her. Her bed was on the opposite side of the ward and towards the back windows, while his was against the opposite wall, and at the front near the door. Sometimes he was glad of the distance- he didn't want to see her that ill up close. But most of the time he wished he was in the bed next to her so that he could keep watch over her and maybe talk to her. Wasn't that meant to help? He just wanted to be able to do something.

Yet all he could do was lie there in the silent hospital wing and think.

Silent hospital wing.

Yep.

So what was that noise?

Ron lifted his head up so he could hear better, and listened hard, even holding his breath. It was very faint, but he could just about make out a shuffling noise coming from the other end of the room. There was a short silence, then the shuffling was suddenly louder for a second and then cut off by a painful gasp.

Ron sat bolt upright. "Hermione?" He asked.

There was another silence, and then, "Ron?"

Ron felt the relief consuming him. Hermione's voice was weak and croaky, but it was her voice. She was awake. "Where are we? What's going on?" Hermione's voice was stronger and sounded scared.

Ron hurriedly reached for his wand, which was lying on his bedside table. "Lumos," he whispered, and blinked rapidly to clear his dazzled eyes as his wand flared. He still couldn't see Hermione's bed, but knew that she could see him. "We're in the hospital wing," he said, in answer to her question. "Are you okay?"

Hermione's voice sounded calmer. "Yes. I think so. Are you? How did we get back here?"

Ron was already fed up with the lighting arrangements and so he swung his legs out of his bed and stood up. He felt a momentary surge of dizziness from getting out of bed for the first time in two days, which Hermione noticed.

"No- Ron, stay in bed," she protested, but Ron was already making his way over to her. The light from his wand illuminated her bed and he saw her properly. She looked tired, pale and had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair half up and half down, all over the place. But she was awake, she was alive, and in Ron's opinion she'd never looked better.

Ron pulled his gaze away and found a chair nearby. He dragged it over to next to her bed and sat down. "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked worriedly.

Hermione nodded. "I'm fine," she said. Ron reached across her bed and put his wand down on the bedside table.

"You've been out cold for a day and a half," he told her. "I thought you wasn't going to wake up."

Hermione stared at him. "A day and a half?" She said incredulously. "I… what day is it?"

"Early Saturday morning," Ron told her, watching the shock on her face. "You got hit by some kind of curse- Neville said it was like a… like a sword of fire."

Ron looked at Hermione anxiously, and she winced and nodded. "I… I kind of remember. So Neville's okay? And… and Harry? Is he alright?"

Ron hesitated slightly before nodding. "Yeah, Harry's fine. They all are- we're the only ones in the hospital wing," he said. "Well, apart from Umbridge." Ron gestured to the bed opposite Hermione, where the light from his wand showed a lump under the bedclothes.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Umbridge?" She said. "But- but how?"

"Dumbledore," Ron said simply. "He just went into the forest yesterday and came back out carrying…"

"Wait a minute, Dumbledore's back?" Hermione said, looking thoroughly confused. "Ron… what happened?"

Hermione started to lever herself up to hear better, but gave a gasp of pain and settled back down immediately. Ron instinctively gripped her arm. "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded, her hand going to her ribs as she winced again. "It just hurts to move," she told him.

Ron rolled his eyes at his stupidity. "I forgot- Madam Pomfrey told me to give you this potion if you woke up in the night," he said, turning to her bedside table, on which stood a silver goblet full of a deep purple liquid. "I think it's for the pain."

He picked up the goblet and went to hand it to Hermione, but she winced again as she tried to lift her arm- it seemed that trying to sit up had triggered pain in her wound that had been dormant until she had tried to move. Ron, seeing her discomfort, lifted the goblet up to Hermione's lips with his right hand and, putting his left hand on the back of her head, helped her to drink about half the potion.

Hermione pulled a face at first but then smiled. "That's much better," she said as Ron put the goblet back down. "Thank you."

"No problem," Ron said, feeling uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing Hermione so helpless.

"Well?" Hermione asked. "How did we all get out? What happened to you?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing fervently that there were someone else able to tell Hermione what had happened. But she deserved to know. And he knew that he wouldn't have liked anyone else telling her.

Why did he always have such conflicting feelings about her?

"Ron?"

Ron looked back down at Hermione, who was watching him with wide eyes, obviously waiting for him to say something.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Er, after we all got split up me and Ginny and Luna ended up in this huge room full of planets- it was really weird, we were floating- anyway, they chased us in there. Ginny's ankle got broken but Luna got us all out of there," he said. He shrugged again. "She did really well, actually."

"What about you?" Hermione asked.

Ron hesitated- he didn't like thinking about what he'd done, much less talking about it. He sighed. "I got hit with something- it made me go… funny."

"Funny?"

"I didn't know what I was doing…. I found everything hilarious- I did some really stupid things." Ron mumbled.

"How did you get hurt?" Hermione asked softly.

Ron looked away from Hermione's piercing stare and focused instead on the wrought silver of the potion goblet. "I- I summoned one of those brain things out of its case," he said quickly. "Turns out they're dangerous."

There was a short silence- Ron kept looking at the goblet, glad that it was too dark for Hermione to see his ears were red.

"It must have been a Hilarity Hex," Hermione said eventually. "It's a really vicious version of a Cheering Charm. It makes the victim find everything really funny, say whatever comes into their mind and have no fear."

Ron glanced back at Hermione. She wasn't looking at him with pity like everyone else, she looked angry. Before Ron could dwell on it though, Hermione spoke again. "What a disgusting hex to cast- they didn't get away did they? What happened next?"

Ron, grateful that her indignation was on his behalf and not directed at him, continued the story. "Well- this is what Neville's told me- Harry ran off to the room with the curtain in it, and all the Deatheaters went after him."

"All of them?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Neville went after him to help, but he had a broken nose and he couldn't really say spells properly. Anyway, B-Bellatrix Lestrange put Neville under the Cruciatus to get Harry to hand over the prophecy, but then the Order came in."

Hermione's scared expression turned into one of immense relief. "Thank God!" She said. "Professor Snape must have told them!"

Ron's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Er… yeah, I guess he must of," he said. "But he wasn't there. It was Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Remus and- and Sirius."

Hermione nodded. "And then?"

"Well, they dealt with the Death Eaters while Harry and Neville tried to escape. But Neville had a jelly-legs curse on him and the prophecy ended up getting smashed."

"Oh no!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's- well, I guess in the grand scheme of things… so what happened next?"

"Dumbledore arrived."

Hermione grinned and let out a sigh of relief. "I knew he'd come into it somewhere! Well, that must have been the end of it."

Ron swallowed. "Not quite," he said. "Dumbledore rounded up all the Deatheaters, but Bellatrix Lestrange ran away. Harry went after her."

"He what?" Hermione gasped.

"He chased her up to the Atrium. Nobody really knows what happened, but- but You-Know-Who appeared," Ron said quietly.

Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Harry!" She whispered.

Ron shook his head. "It's okay- Dumbledore went up there- he had a duel with You-Know-Who, right there in the Atrium."

Hermione's eyes were so wide Ron thought they were going to get stuck that way. "Anyway, You-Know-Who and Lestrange escaped, but loads of people saw- everyone knows he's back now."

Hermione blinked a couple of times, as if she were trying to see clearly. She shook her head. "It's unbelievable."

Ron nodded. "I know," he said. "Anyway, Dumbledore gave Harry a Portkey back to school, and then he sent my Dad down to do the same for us. We got back here, Madam Pomfrey sorted out Ginny, Luna and Neville, and we've been in here ever since. Dumbledore came back the same night."

Hermione was still shaking her head. "And Umbridge is alright?" She asked. "How did Dumbledore rescue her?"

"No idea," Ron said truthfully. "He just strolled into the forest yesterday morning and came out half an hour later with her. Neville and me were watching from the window."

There was a short silence as Hermione thought over everything Ron had told her. Ron watched her think, his stomach starting to feel tight again. He hadn't told her the most important part of the story, and though he didn't want to, Ron knew Hermione had to know.

But just where was he supposed to start?

Luckily for Ron, Hermione gave him the perfect opening. "So how is Harry?" She asked.

Ron looked at her intently for a moment, knowing his next few words would crush her. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I haven't seen him."

Hermione frowned. "He hasn't been up here?" She asked.

Ron shook his head. "No. He's er… he needs to be alone right now…" he said, his voice trailing off before he could bring himself to say why. But Hermione knew now that something was really wrong. She could probably read it on Ron's face.

"Why?" She asked. "Why does he need to be alone?" Ron swallowed and looked down at the potions goblet again, trying to compose his thoughts. "What happened to Harry, Ron?" Hermione whispered, turning over on her side so she could see Ron better.

Ron placed both hands on the edge of the bed and gripped the mattress for support. He took a deep breath, forced himself to look at Hermione, and spoke.

"Not Harry… Sirius."

Hermione's eyes widened and suddenly brightened with tears- Ron could tell that she knew what he was going to say, but he carried on anyway.

"Sirius… died," Ron said falteringly. "There was… he had a duel, with Bellatrix Lestrange, and… she hit him with something and he fell through that curtain thing. That's why Harry chased her- he was trying… she killed Sirius."

Hermione was crying now, tears running silently down both cheeks, looking straight at Ron, who was fighting an overwhelming urge to wipe her tears away, to hug her, to do something to make her feel better. Ron felt something wet on his cheek and realised after a couple of seconds that it was a tear. He swiped at it angrily- this was about Hermione, not him.

Hermione's tears were coming faster now. She reached out her left hand and grasped Ron's left one. "Ron…" she said before she started sobbing. Hearing her say his name and start to sob was too much for Ron- Hermione had pulled his hand under her cheek as she started to cry heavily, and Ron moved with his arm. He placed his right arm over her heaving back and rested his chin on her left shoulder, hoping that just his presence would make her feel better because he really didn't know what to say to her.

Hermione continued to cry for what seemed like hours to Ron, who didn't realise that silent tears were running down his own cheeks. It was the first time he'd cried about Sirius, but his tears were as much for Hermione's pain as his own.

They didn't know what time they stopped crying, because by the time they had, both were asleep.

It was the heat of the sun on Hermione's bare feet that eventually woke her up. The sheets of the bed had ridden up to expose her feet, and Hermione felt sure they were getting sunburnt. She pulled her legs up further to cover them, but in doing so realised two things. One- that the action made her chest hurt a little bit, and two- that she could hear someone else breathing very close by.

Hermione blinked her eyes open. The first thing she noticed was the hand her cheek was resting on was attached to an arm in front of her eyes and definitely wasn't her own. It was as Hermione raised her head in confusion that the events of the previous night came back to her in a rush, and she realised whose arm it was.

Ron's head was resting on Hermione's shoulder, and she turned her own head slightly to look at him as he slept. Her treacherous heart started to beat double-time when she realised how close he was- she would be able to count every individual, dark-brown eyelash.

Before she could, though, Ron started to stir- obviously her movements had woken him up. Ron turned his head and rested his forehead against her shoulder before blinking his eyes open. Hermione watched as he stayed there a couple of seconds before frowning in confusion and then sitting bolt upright in his chair, his eyes shifting to Hermione's. She noticed his ears had gone very red.

"Good morning," she said, levering herself up on one elbow. She winced- the potion she had taken last night seemed to have worn off slightly.

Ron ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up in all directions. "Er, yeah," he said. "'Morning."

"What time is it?" Hermione asked. Ron lifted up his wrist so he could see his watch, and Hermione realised they were still holding hands. They glanced at each other and disentangled their fingers very quickly, looking in opposite directions again. Ron looked at his watch. "It's ten past seven," he said. "Madam Pomfrey will be getting here soon."

Hermione nodded. "You should probably get back to your bed- you don't want to get in trouble," she said.

Ron nodded, but didn't move. "Are you alright?" He asked instead.

Hermione smiled weakly. "I'm fine," she said. "Go on, go!"

Ron stood up, picked up his wand and walked across the room to his own bed. It wasn't until he got there that Hermione realised just how far away it was. Hermione was in the bed second furthest from the door; Ron was on one of the first beds you came across, and on the opposite wall. Hermione fought against the stupid sense of loss she felt at the distance between them and concentrated on taking some more of her potion.

Madam Pomfrey swept into the room a few minutes later. She did not seem surprised to see Hermione awake. "How do you feel, Miss Granger?" She asked, bearing down on her and peering into her eyes.

Hermione nodded. "I feel fine- a little woozy, and sore when I move too much," she said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded briskly back. "The answer to that problem is to not move," she said matter-of-factly before looking in the empty potion goblet.

"Does this alleviate the pain well?" She asked. Hermione nodded. "Good," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm afraid, though, you'll have to take many more potions a day to heal you properly, and you can expect to be here for about a week."

Hermione sighed but nodded her agreement. Madam Pomfrey strode across the room to Ron. "And as for you, Mr Weasley," she said. "I've decided that Dr Ubbly's is what you need, seeing as the more usual ointments don't seem to work on those scars." Madam Pomfrey reached Ron and peered into his eyes too. She tutted. "You have to get more sleep, Mr Weasley," she said disapprovingly. "Maybe if you move to the bed next to Miss Granger's you won't feel inclined to spend the night sleeping on a chair."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm, and even from this distance she could see Ron's ears go red. Madam Pomfrey had seen them asleep! Hermione had never felt so embarrassed in her entire life…

"Well, Mr Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey was saying now. "It's not Advanced Arithmantic Theory! Go on!"

Ron hesitated a second before scrambling back out of bed and hurrying back across the room. He jumped into the bed next to Hermione's and placed his wand on the bedside table. Madam Pomfrey was standing at the threshold to her office. "I'll be back in a moment with your breakfasts and your first potions, Miss Granger," she said before disappearing through the door.

As soon as she was gone, Hermione and Ron looked at each other and started to laugh. It felt good to Hermione to be laughing instead of crying. Even though her heart still ached with the loss of Sirius, concern for Harry and fear of what was to come, Hermione knew that if she and Ron couldn't laugh together, there was no point in fighting at all. They couldn't let it destroy them.

They sobered up after a couple of seconds and sat in companionable silence. Hermione looked across the room at Professor Umbridge. She was lying on her back; her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Hermione could just make out a faint mark in the shape of a hoof on her cheek. She guessed that she should feel a little guilty- it was her idea that had led to Umbridge being captured by the centaurs in the first place- but for the life of her Hermione just couldn't drum up any semblance of the feeling. Not after everything that had happened.

Hermione looked back round at Ron, and found that he was also staring at Umbridge. "Do you think she'll be alright?" Hermione asked him. Ron's face hardened at the question, and Hermione knew his answer would have been 'I don't care', if Madam Pomfrey hadn't swept back into the room at that moment.

"She'll be fine," Madam Pomfrey said, walking over to Hermione's bed carrying a tray with three goblets on it. "She's just in shock."

Madam Pomfrey placed the tray on Hermione's bedside table and handed her one of the goblets. The potion it held was pink, smelled sickly sweet and was the same consistency as treacle. Hermione was reminded forcefully of the Muggle children's medicine, Calpol.

"Drink that slowly," Madam Pomfrey told her, before striding back to her office. Hermione looked up at Ron, who was watching her.

He gave her a weak smile. "Enjoy," he said sarcastically. Hermione nodded and took a sip. She was happy to find that it tasted like Calpol as well.

"It's quite nice, actually," she told Ron as she took another sip.

Ron leaned over her bedside table to peer into the other two goblets. He recoiled and sat back quickly. "Enjoy it," he said. "The smell of that black one is disgusting." Hermione looked at the other two goblets on her bedside table but didn't try to get any closer and have a look.

Instead she smiled at Ron. "Thank you, Ron," she said sarcastically. "That was just what I needed to hear."

Ron grinned at her and shrugged. Hermione drained the last of the potion and placed the goblet back down on the tray next to her. She noticed that one goblet held potion the colour of yellow highlighters, while the other one- as Ron had said- was jet-black. Hermione sat back quickly before she could smell it.

"Have you had to take any potions?" she asked Ron.

"I had a sleeping draught the first night and one of those pain potions that you had," he replied with a shrug. "But Madam Pomfrey says healing potions won't work on my cuts because they were made by thoughts."

Hermione hesitated. Ron had said all that very quickly, indicating he wasn't comfortable talking about what had happened. But she had to ask. "Can I see them?" She said.

Ron stared at the foot of his bed for a few seconds, and Hermione wasn't sure whether he'd heard her. Then, suddenly, he rolled up the left sleeve of his pyjamas to his elbow and held out his arm towards her. Hermione leant forward to see. Her eyes widened, but she managed to swallow the gasp before it escaped her lips. The welts started about halfway up his forearm, and they were deep and nasty looking, rimmed with irritated red skin. The unaffected areas of Ron's arm were paler than usual, and so the welts stood out even more obviously. Hermione glanced up at Ron, who was looking straight down at her, as if to see her reaction.

Hermione sat back. "Do they hurt?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

Ron shrugged as he unrolled his sleeve again. "They're a bit sore," he said. "They hurt yesterday morning, but that was only because Madam Pomfrey put Froster's Fantastic Feeling on them- that stuff is horrible; we used to hide injuries when we were kids because Mum would try to put that stuff on us."

Hermione laughed as Madam Pomfrey swept back into the ward carrying two trays with breakfast on them. She placed one of them on Ron's lap and put the other at the foot of Hermione's bed. She picked up the goblet that had held Hermione's first potion and peered inside. "One minute forty-five," she mumbled to herself before handing another goblet to Hermione, the one with the highlighter yellow potion. "This potion you have to drink in one gulp," she told her. "Just wait a few more seconds…" Madam Pomfrey was still peering into the first goblet, and Hermione realised there must be some kind of timer in the bottom of it.

"Three…. Two… One… now!" Hermione obediently began to drink the yellow potion, which had a bitter, tangy taste like lemons. She finished it in one gulp- luckily the goblet was only about half-full.

Madam Pomfrey nodded her approval and took the goblet off of Hermione. She pointed to her breakfast tray. "Eat all of that, and then drink the third potion," she told her. And with that, Madam Pomfrey swept back into her office. Hermione pulled the tray onto her lap and picked up her fork without much enthusiasm for the eggs and toast on her plate. She looked over at Ron and saw that he had already eaten most of his breakfast. He stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth, and looked over at her.

"You alright?" He asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I'm just not that hungry," she said.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I said that yesterday," he said. "You don't want to go through that."

Hermione gave a weak laugh and reluctantly ate some of the eggs. As soon as she ate them, though, Hermione felt her hunger well up inside of her and didn't stop eating until she had cleared the plate. She put down her fork and sighed.

"Blimey."

Hermione looked across at Ron, who was staring at her in shock, his breakfast still half-eaten. "I'd hate to see you when you are hungry," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed her tray away. "I suppose I have to drink this potion now," she said, reaching for the goblet.

"Pinch your nose first," Ron advised, getting back to his breakfast. Hermione, not wanting to take any chances, did as he said, before quickly lifting the goblet to her lips. The potion in the goblet was only a centimetre deep, so she was able to finish it in one sip.

It really was disgusting. Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth as she retched, willing the vile taste in her mouth to go away. It didn't, and she started to shake uncontrollably. The goblet dropped out of her hand, but Hermione didn't notice- she had both hands over her mouth now; sure she was going to be sick. The food she had eaten was churning in her stomach.

And then, suddenly, the feeling stopped, and Hermione felt all right again. She drew a deep breath and slowly lowered her hands. It was then she realised Ron was standing next to her bed, one hand gripping her shoulder.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Ron asked anxiously. Hermione looked round at him and saw the concern in his eyes, and thought what it must have looked like- her suddenly starting to shake like that.

She nodded. "I'm fine," she said. "I don't like that potion very much, though."

Ron grinned and sat back down on his bed. "Yeah, didn't look like it," he said.

Hermione picked up the goblet from where it had fallen on her bed and put it back on her bedside table. "I suppose I'll have to take it again tomorrow," she said unhappily. She was already dreading the prospect, and beginning to resent having to stay in the Hospital Wing for a week. She knew she was injured- she could feel it every time she moved- but having to stay in this room with nothing to do for seven days was enough to drive a person crazy. Especially at a time like this.

But, Hermione reasoned, if she had had to choose someone to be stuck in the Hospital Wing with, she would have chosen Ron. Ron alone was in the same position as Hermione- best friends with the person Voldemort wanted above all others. And yet, he seemed to be able to take it all in his stride.

Ron was the only person in the world who could always make Hermione feel better- usually by accident. Like last night- after he had told her about Sirius, he couldn't know how much it had meant to Hermione to have him hold her while she cried…

Madam Pomfrey bustled over at that moment to take away her tray and the empty goblets, giving Hermione the chance to wipe away the tears that had started to fall again at the thought of Sirius. She had to get a grip on herself – it wouldn't do to be crying every time he was mentioned. Especially when she was around Harry.

"So, you haven't heard from Harry at all?" Hermione asked Ron as Madam Pomfrey disappeared into her office.

Ron's face darkened and he shook his head. "No, he hasn't been near here," he said. "I've seen Ginny, Neville and Luna a lot, and my mum and dad came in, and Remus-"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the mention of Remus – she hadn't even thought about him, but now that she did she was once again consumed by grief at what he must be going through. To lose your best friend, less than two years after finding him again… Hermione shuddered at the thought.

"H-how was he?" Hermione asked falteringly, swiping angrily at the tears that refused to stop falling.

Ron was staring at the opposite wall, shaking his head slightly. "Not good," he said quietly. "He didn't stay for long, he just came in to help escort Tonks to St Mungo's…"

"Is she okay?" Hermione asked. "What happened to her?"

"She got thrown down the stairs in that big stone room," Ron answered. "She broke a few bones and hit her head really badly, but my Dad said she's gonna be okay. I think she's already out, actually."

Hermione let out a relieved sigh just as the door of the Hospital Wing opened and Neville poked his head through the opening. Hermione watched as his face folded in confusion at the sight of Ron's empty bed before he turned and saw them both. His face broke into a grin.

"Hermione!" He said happily, taking a step into the Wing. "Thank Merlin you're awake – we were so worried about you – are you okay?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, Neville turned and sprinted back out through the door.

Hermione looked at Ron, who was already laughing. After a couple of moments she joined in. "Where did he go?" She asked.

"To get Ginny, probably," Ron answered, still laughing.

A second later when the Hospital Wing door opened again, this time admitting Ginny. Ginny's eyes met Hermione's and she stared at her in silence for a couple of seconds, before running the entire length of the Wing and skidding to a halt next to Hermione's bed.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny cried gleefully, leaning forward to gather Hermione into what would have been a tight hug, had Ginny not pulled back at the last second with a gasp. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she said in a rush. "How are you? I was so worried… are you okay? Does it really hurt? When did you wake up?"

Hermione laughed. "Er… no you didn't, I'm okay, it's a bit sore and I woke up during the night," she said with a grin. Ginny laughed and gave her a loose hug, being very careful not to touch her torso.

"She's been talking to you non-stop, trying to get you to wake up," said Neville – he'd followed Ginny back into the room a lot more sedately.

"Yeah, I barely even get a hello," Ron said with a good-natured grin. Ginny stuck out her tongue at him and turned back to Hermione.

"So, do you… have you been told…"

Hermione nodded quickly to stop Ginny having to actually ask. "Yes," she said. "Ron told me. Are you alright?" Hermione knew Ginny had become very fond of Sirius – they all were.

Ginny took a deep breath and nodded. "I guess," she said. "It's just… so strange."

There was a short silence. What could be said to that?

"How's Harry?" Ron asked Neville after a few seconds. Neville shifted uneasily on his feet. "He's… I spoke to him last night when he came to the dormitory, and he says he's okay, but… well, he's just avoiding us, really."

Ginny sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed and nodded sadly. "I hardly saw him yesterday – he was out in the grounds, but when I went out there he'd disappeared. Lavender said she saw him up by the Owlery, but we went up there and…"

"He was gone by the time we got there," Neville said. "He's going to meals really early or really late to avoid everyone, and he didn't even show up for Dumbledore's welcome back feast last night."

"We got up early this morning to see if we could find him…" Ginny started to say, but Hermione cut her off.

"No, you have to let him be!" She said, at the exact same time that Ron exclaimed "he needs to be alone!"

Ginny and Neville looked sheepishly at one another. "Well, you two know best," Ginny said. "Though he can't go on avoiding everyone forever."

"He won't," said Hermione. "He just needs a little time."

"So, how long are you going to be in here?" Asked Ginny.

Hermione sighed. "A week," she answered. She looked over at Ron. "Do you know how long you have to be here?" She asked him.

Ron shook his head. "It depends on my arms and how long they take to heal," he said. "A few days at least."

Hermione nodded, carefully schooling her expression to stay passive. The truth was she was very happy that Ron would be around for a little while at least. They were in this together, and she knew that when Harry felt better they would get him through his grief.

And when he walked into the Hospital Wing three hours later, that's just what they started to do.