Chapter Two: Searching

When Hermione woke she was in a far more comfortable place than she had fallen asleep. The room smelled fresh, and the bed was large and warm. There were no screams of anguish; no horridly metallic stench of death and blood; no cold drafts from the massive hole in the side of the Great Hall. Hermione relished in the feeling of cleanliness and comfort, flirting with the idea of going back to sleep. Then she remembered that one of her best friends was missing and she shot straight up in bed. Looking around, she realized she was back in the 7th year girls dorm. Her bed had been enlarged, and it was obvious someone else had shared it, and while the thought was a little disconcerting, it gave her an odd sense of comfort.

Getting up and getting dressed in jeans and a tank top, she padded down the stairs to the common room to find that she was alone. She trekked up to the boys dorms, but they were sadly empty as well. Going back upstairs and pulling on some sneakers, she decided to make her first stop the hospital wing to see if there was anything she could assist with there and to see if Harry had been moved somewhere more comfortable and more private.

The Hospital Wing, naturally, was overflowing. Cots were placed in between the actual hospital beds, and the ward appeared to have been lengthened to accommodate what looked like three or four small private rooms in the back. Chairs were scattered haphazardly about, and all of those seemed to be occupied with injured persons as well.

"Miss Granger," said Madame Pomfrey, "may I be of some assistance?"

"I was wondering how Harry was, and if there is anything I can help with?"

"First room on the right in the back. I'd wager he is still sleeping. I gave him several potions last night to try and combat some of the effects of the last year. I'll be taking a look at you as well. Once you've assuaged your fears over Mr. Potter, I could use some help with the morning doses. The patients in the chairs just need their potions and some slight bandaging, and they will be free to leave. The patients in the cots need to be checked over, and if they are doing well, may be upgraded to the chairs. Patients in the beds may be upgraded to the cots, and I will handle our private guests."

"And...have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, dear. I have not. But the Great Hall is set up as a triage, so there are more patients down there, and in the Transfiguration hallway. And...a makeshift morgue has been established in the dungeons."

"T-Thank you, Madame," said Hermione as she made her way to check on Harry.

An hour later she has assured herself that Harry would survive, albeit a bit worse for wear, and had cleared all of the chairs in the wing of their patients. Halfway through working on the patients in the cots on the right side of the wing (and if there were this many injured, she didn't even want to see the morgue) the doors burst open to a frantic Professor Sprout coming in.

"Poppy! Poppy!" she screamed. "They've attacked the Ministry! There are more people coming in from there! St. Mungo's is full! Oh! It's terrible! The entire building collapsed! Poppy! We need room!"

Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office at the noise.

"Professor! Calm yourself! Have you notified the volunteers in the Great Hall?"

"Yes! They said they would send their lesser injuries up here via the Floo for you to treat, assess, and dismiss. But we need more volunteers! The Ministry was full! Somehow the alarms didn't go off! Oh, it's terrible!"

"Madame?" asked Hermione.

"Finish the patients here. I shall away to the Hall to oversee the assessments down there and I shall send a team of Healers up here to assist with patients coming through the Floo. Empty every surface you can to make room. Dismiss everyone you can from here. Try and round up every supply we have. I shall return."

"Yes, Madame."

Six hours later, covered in sweat and blood, Hermione finally found a quiet corner to sit in and cry. The rush from the Ministry had been overwhelming. 174 innocent souls and 17 death eaters had lost their lives in the building collapse, and several more injured were not expected to make it. That brought the total lives lost to 398 with 200 more injured. Hermione still had no word on any of the Weasleys, and her hopes of finding Ron alive were beginning to fade. What had he needed to do that was so important?