Tangled
by Rsuth
DISCLAIMER: As the author of this fanfiction story I do not, in any way, profit from the story or claim any rights to the 'Harry Potter' universe. All creative rights to the 'Harry Potter' universe belong to J.K. Rowling. Thank you for letting me play in this amazing world.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hermione was struggling to keep her eyes open. She could see movement around her, but everything was moving too fast to focus on, to hear. Her hand was in his, grasped protectively in a warm and comforting embrace. It was her anchor, her reminder that she had escaped, that she was still in the land of the living.
She had broken free, had told him that she had heard him, but it was all she could manage. She was fighting sleep, wanting to savour her freedom, wanting to know what had happened during the blank lapse in her memory, but she was exhausted. Her body was still burning, aching, and she knew she should give into her urges and let it sleep, heal. She knew this time that the darkness was gone, that she wouldn't become trapped again, but it was still a fear.
In her haziness she felt a warm hand brush her hair off her hot face, and the press of soft lips on her forehead. Warmth around her other hand. They were both there, her boys were there, sitting beside her, keeping watch. She let sleep finally pull her down to its calm stillness, knowing they would be there when she woke.
oooooooooooooooooooo
Ron watched as Hermione's eyes drifted closed, opening a moment later to try to focus on the room around her. She had just woken up but looked as exhausted as she had when they had first arrived. He grasped her hand a little more firmly, wordlessly trying to tell her that he was there, that he was by her side.
He felt a squeeze of his shoulder and looked up to see Bill behind him, looking down at Hermione. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone. And realized that everyone had probably heard his confession of love...He could feel the back of his neck going red at the thought.
Bill quickly moved beside him and checked the now-sleeping Hermione over, timing her pulse, checking the swelling of her arm, feeling the temperature of her fever. He worked quietly and wordlessly until he finally pulled away, and turned to regard himself and Harry. He felt anxious butterflies flutter inside his tight stomache until Bill spoke again.
"I think she'll be okay. It'll take a little while for her to heal, and she's not quite out of the woods, but I think she's okay. I also think I know what happened to her, why it took so long for her to wake up, but I want to talk with Hermione before I say anything. She might have just proven herself to be the most remarkable witch of her time, again." Bill smiled down at him at this. "I'll come back in a while to try to wake her up if she doesn't herself, give her some pain reliever. I think she'll be okay for now, just keep an eye on that fever, and keep up with the cool cloth. And stay here, we're willing to take to risk." Bill squeezed his shoulder once more before walking out the door with his wife, closing the door softly behind him.
Ron sighed out loud, feeling as though the iron band that had been clamped around his heart and stomache for the past few days was releasing a bit.
Harry walked over to sit on the opposite side of the bed, his slumped posture revealing his relief. He reached out a slightly shaking hand to gently brush Hermione's hair off her face, bending to plant a kiss on her forehead. He took her other hand in his own and they both sat back in the silence again to wait.
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She could smell the ocean. The cool salty air brought a flash of a distant memory of the summer before Hogwarts. Dad had brought her to the seaside for a week, just the two of them, while Mum had gone away to visit relatives. They had swam, searched the sand for shells, laid on the hammock by the beach, read together. At 10 years old this trip had brought her complete happiness. She had been able to forget about the bullies from school, her lonely summer holiday, the nagging feeling that she wasn't quite normal.
She had been sad to leave, but sitting on a pile of mail in the front hallway on their return was a large envelope inked in fancy handwriting, made of rough paper. It was addressed to her. She had stared at the envelope for a moment, not knowing whether she should touch it, but something in her drew her to the envelope. She grabbed it before Dad came back inside and stuffed it in her book bag, running up the stairs to place it in her room with the rest of the luggage.
She had rushed to help Dad unpack the car and then excused herself, walking calmly up the stairs to not raise any suspicion. She grabbed the envelope and ran into her bathroom, where she wouldn't be disturbed for a while, and carefully ripped it open. The strong smell of fresh paper hit her nose and she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent like she did with each new book she opened. Curiously she pulled out just the top of the letter, stopping when she read the name of the sender: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Wizardry?
She had stared at the letter for a while, not quite understanding what she was looking at, but her curiosity had won and she pulled out the rest of the letter. To Miss Hermione Granger… it had started, and she read through the rest of the strange letter which detailed her admittance, Fall start date, and book and supplies lists for this supposed magical school. She threw it to the ground once she had read it, clamping her hands over her eyes to stop hot tears from falling. It was just another prank, meant to mock her. Probably made by those awful girls at her school. She had ripped up the letter viciously and flushed it down the toilet.
Every day after that she would receive another letter, and throw it out in a new creative way. Mum, back from her trip, had caught her doing this one day and made her show her the letter. She had been angry as well, determined to figure out who was sending the letters, and call their parents. But one morning the letter didn't arrive and Hermione was relieved that she could stop thinking about it. But as she was sitting at the table eating breakfast that morning with her parents, a loud knock had sounded at the door. "Don't they know how to use a doorbell?" She remembered her Dad muttering as she moved to open the front door. On the other side was a strict-looking woman dressed in dark robes and a funny hat. In her hand was another one of those letters. "Miss Hermione Granger, I presume?"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooo
The strong smell of the ocean nudged her senses again and she realized that she had drifted off in her memories, stuck somewhere between sleep and daydream. She focused on the soft ocean breeze blowing on her face and let herself drift awake. She felt disjointed, confused about where she was, but something in her mind or body was making her feel fuzzy, unworried. She carefully flexed her hands and legs, surprised to find them stiff and sore. She stopped her movements instantly.
Slowly she opened her eyes, blinking against the warm sunlight that was crawling across the ceiling. She heard a soft snort nearby and turned her aching head carefully to the side, feeling something cool slide off her forehead. Red messy hair spilled over the quilt where Ron's head lay, his body looking uncomfortably hunched over in a small armchair beside her. She smiled at the sight, wincing as she moved a sore, bandaged arm sideways to rest her fingertips in his hair. It was smooth and silky, like she had always imagined, the red looking deep gold in the sunlight. He slept on, unaware of her touches.
A soft noise made her look away from Ron. Harry was getting to his feet sleepily, fixing his serious gaze on her after he hastily pushed his glasses on. He looked over towards her hand, which was still in Ron's hair, and grinned at her, moving to sit on the other side of the bed.
"Where am I, Harry" she croaked out, surprised at how weak her voice felt, like she had been sick for days. She watched curiously as Harry's face fell into a frown, which he quickly covered up with a forced smile. He carefully reached for her hand, giving it a small squeeze.
"Hermione…we're at Bill and Fleur's, do you remember?" he asked her cautiously, speaking calmly and slowly.
She tried to remember what he was telling her. Tried to search her brain for a memory that didn't seem to exist. With a sudden panic, she did remember that she had been trapped, trying to fight her way out of the darkness.
"I was trapped, Harry, that's the last thing I remember…" she told him honestly, watching as his stoic face flickered with confusion. "I remember…voices…Ron…he told me…" but she didn't finish that sentence, not wanting to say it in case it hadn't happened, not wanting to embarrass herself.
"He told you he loved you." Harry finished for her, smiling warmly at her as a faint blush rose up his neck.
She simply nodded at him, feeling relieved, overjoyed, and embarrassed in the same moment.
Harry looked over at Ron, who had managed to sleep on throughout their conversation (which was no surprise), and then back to her. "I'm supposed to let Bill know you're awake, are you alright if I leave for a few minutes? You could always try to wake Ron up if you need anything," he chuckled quietly. She just nodded up at him.
Harry reached to the side of her head, and a moment later she felt something cool placed on her forehead. It surprisingly felt really good, soothing, and she hadn't realized she felt hot and sticky until that moment.
"I'll be right back," he mouthed, creeping out of the room.
Hermione sighed as she tried to make her body relax. She hadn't felt too bad when she had first woken up, but now as she sat in the silence she felt as if she'd been in a fight with a dragon. Her body burned and ached all over, but worst of all her neck and bandaged arm seemed to throb with each heartbeat. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn't hurt, but the movement made her feel worse. She gasped quietly and closed her eyes tight, pushing her head hard into the pillow. She didn't want to wake Ron up and make him worry needlessly. She concentrated on his soft breath blowing against her arm, letting the methodical feeling soothe her.
"Hermione?" came a soft voice, after what seemed like hours. She opened her bleary eyes to see Harry set down a tray on a table next to the bed, and sit down beside her. "Are you alright? Are you in pain?" he whispered to her, looking concerned as he reached over and placed his hand on her forehead and cheek.
She simply nodded to him, knowing that she couldn't hide it. She had learned throughout the years not to hide from him, he was too observant.
"I let Bill know you're awake, he's coming up soon with something to help with the pain. He sent me up with something for you to eat first, if you can manage...some fresh bread and soup, it's really good."
Her stomache gave a gurgle and Harry's mouth twitched into a quick smile. "Here, let me help you sit up," he muttered as he rooted around on the floor, popping back up with a couple of pillows. He knelt back down beside her and gently pulled her upright, quickly stuffing the pillows behind her and laying her limp body back. She let him shift her, not feeling as though she even had the energy to lift her own head.
Hermione pinched her eyes closed against the dizziness that hit her with the change of position, and breathed deeply until it started to pass. Harry was waiting patiently beside her, and lifted the tray onto her lap once he saw she was fine.
She tried reaching for the large glass of water that was perched on the tray, but her hands were shaking too badly for her to grasp the glass. Harry moved to sit close beside her, reaching his hand around hers and holding the glass as well to help her bring it to her mouth. She eagerly gulped the water down, not realizing how thirsty she was until it touched her lips. Harry filled the empty glass with his wand, helping her to drink it as well.
She managed to pick up a piece of the fluffy buttered bread on her own, almost moaning at the taste as she was chewing. She nodded for Harry to take a piece.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, her pain seeming duller as her stomache's needs were met. Harry had to spoon feed her the bowl of soup, her arms to weak and shaky to handle the spoon, but she didn't complain. She knew she would usually hate being helped like this, be embarrassed by it, but somehow she didn't care, her thoughts still feeling hazy and separate. Once she had finished, and turned down a second bowl, she let Harry take the tray away and lay her lower on the pillows. He placed his arm behind her pillows, and let her rest against him as they waited for Bill.
As they sat in silence she tried to figure out what day of the week it was, the date of the month, the time of day outside, but it was making her dizzy and confused. She knew she should be alarmed by this, that she had never had trouble remembering the most basic things, but gave up as her body throbbed, and her eyelids grew heavy. She left herself rest heavily against Harry, taking comfort in their sibling-like closeness, and fell towards sleep.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo o
Something startled her, and her body jerked hard as she was wrenched back to wakefulness. Tears came to her eyes as the movement woke up her pains and she let out a moan.
"Easy, easy, Hermione…try to relax…" A soft feminine voice told her, and she let herself take some jerking breaths before opening her eyes again. She was laying back down on the bed again, Harry was gone. A figure with long blonde hair was leaning over her, and she let her eyes focus on their face.
"Fleur…" she whispered. The older witch must have heard her because she gave her a soft smile, and placed her cool hand against her hot cheek.
"Bonjour, Hermione, it's been a while," she spoke quietly.
"Since you three jumped ship on my wedding night, if I remember correctly," came a joking deep voice from beside her. She turned her head towards the other voice.
"Bill…" she whispered in recognition. The older man, who looked so much like Ron, gave her a soft smile
"I'm glad to see you back, Hermione. You had us all worried for a while." He reached behind him. "We were just putting some more healing ointment on your cuts before you woke up again. I'm sorry we woke you."
Cuts? She didn't remember. She tried to lift her head to look down at her body but a sharp pain on her neck stopped her. She lifted her hand up to touch her neck but Fleur's soft but firm hand grasped it before she could, placing it back down on the mattress. She suddenly realized that she didn't have any clothes on underneath the blanket, they must have been removed at some point.
"Just close your eyes, cherie, Bill and I are almost done; you have some bad wounds that need to be looked after. I'll find you some clean clothes after, and you can have some pain potion."
"Ron?" She croaked out as she let her eyes close.
"They're both just outside, we thought you'd want your privacy." Fleur reassured her. She simply nodded her head to let her know she had heard and agreed.
Sleep seemed to be dragging her back down again, even though she had just woken up, but she gave in as she felt the blanket being moved, and the cold sting of something being dabbed over her body.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooo
Something jostled her and she listened to see what had woken her. She wasn't ready to open her eyes yet. She could feel that she was clothed again, and her body didn't seem to be burning and throbbing as severely as it had before.
Warmth spread through her as a warm body pressed closely to her, but didn't wrap itself around her. She inhaled deeply and recognized his scent immediately. She knew they had never been this close before, but ignored her embarrassment as she burrowed closer, pushing her hot face into his neck, placing her arms against his hard chest. She needed this, needed him.
A cautious arm slowly snaked around her under the blanket, and she sighed at the contact, nuzzling her face in his neck. She could feel his heart beating rapidly, and his chest jerking slightly with his slightly haggard breaths. Something dripped onto her cheek but she ignored it, letting the sound of his heart lull her back to sleep.
To be continued…
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A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long to post; I've had it mostly written for a while, but work and life got busy for a bit and I refuse to submit mediocre and rushed writing. This will be the last "slow" chapter, the next will pick up as Hermione starts to recover and has her memory jostled back to life. It will also be the first chapter to revolve outside of the bedroom, and with the other people who are at Shell Cottage. I felt this chapter had to be posted before I could continue. I have some free time coming up, so the next chapter should come up pretty quickly. Reviews are really appreciated, as always!
Have you read my new short story, 'Home', yet? It's another Hermione-centric story, focusing on the first days after the battle, and how the strain of the past year catches up to Hermione. It's written in a similar style to this story, so if you like 'Tangled' you might like 'Home'. Find it through my profile!
