Hello my lovely dolls :) I'm sorry for getting this out so late. I intended on staying on a weekly updating pace, but obviously that didn't work out. If I didn't reply to your review from the last chapter, I'm sorry. I didn't get to everyone because I have Vista. I think I don't need to add anything else to that. I do read all the reviews though, and hopefully I can reply to all of them this time if Vista isn't such a spaz. I hope that you're all well and enjoyed the holidays. Happy 2009! Let's hope this year is better than 2008. God bless.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because I'm not J.K. Rowling. Seriously, this shitty chapter? You've gotta be kidding me. There's no way I'm J.K. Rowling.

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

Chapter Fourteen: Love of a Mom

"Well, I see you're better," Markovitch snapped.

Hermione immediately pulled her lips away from Harry's, her placed her thin hands on his chest and shoved him away.

"Markovitch, what the – what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, biting her bottom lip. Harry's knuckles turned white.

"It's been over a week since the incident, and I need to check up on my patient, of course, but I see that you're...busy." Markovitch's dark eyes bored into her skin. "I have to say, Potter," she continued, glaring at Harry now, "you're pretty smooth for a boy who grew up with no love."

"Since I'm obviously busy, you should see your way out of the Hospital wing," Hermione said harshly, raising one eyebrow.

"Do me a favor," the Comforter said to Harry as she slowly took steps backwards, "make sure she doesn't go off trying to kill herself again. I have enough paperwork as it is."

Harry began to stand up from his seated position on the side of her hospital bed, but Hermione swiftly shoved her arm in his path. As Markovitch walked out, laughing, Harry held her arm tightly in order restrain himself from running towards the evil woman.

"Ouch, Harry..." Hermione said, nearly whispering.

He suddenly realized it was the arm whose vein had been cut. "Oh, sorry, love." Harry leaned down towards her and kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for longer amount of time than usual. "I didn't mean to."

"It's fine," she said with a small giggle. She pulling his face down lower so that she could kiss him full on the lips.

"Hermione, I..."

"Ron! What the hell?" Harry exclaimed, "Have you ever heard of knocking first?"

Ron shrugged. "This is a public place."

"Why does everyone interrupt us?" Hermione complained as she leaned back and rested her head on the pillow. She scooted over, giving Harry room to sit back down, and held his hand tightly. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to check up on you."

"I'm just fine," she replied, not even looking at him.

"Look, I know you're mad at me, Hermione, but I say we start over, eh?"

" No, Ronald, we can't start over. You knew I was – still am – in an unstable condition! You shouldn't have reacted like that before. I need you to apalogize for being a rotten son of a --"

"Hey, now, let's not get too violent," Harry intervened. "Hermione, Ron's felt guilty for what he did."

Hermione gave him a look of utter surprise. "Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you're actually defending this twat! What did he do, say that he's really really sorry? Did he give you the innocent puppy eyes, too?"

"No, Hermione, he didn't say anything to me about this. He was too scared to. But he wrote a letter to Mrs. Weasley one night, and he was too tired to send it, so it left it on his nightstand. And I sort of...read it..."

"You know about this?" Hermione turned to Ron.

"Well, he told me the night before this incident happened. I almost slapped him for reading my mail. I believe that would be a felony in the States."

Hermione bit her lip and folded her arms gently across her chest, being careful to not touch the scar on her left arm. "Fine, continue."

"He really was sorry, love, I swear. Just trust me. He wished he had handled the situation more maturely. If he did, you wouldn't have hurt yourself," Harry said in the gentlest voice that he could muster.

Hermione flinched at the words hurt yourself. "I'm sorry --"

Every time anyone mentioned that incident to Hermione, she'd turn to him and apalogize. "Don't," was all he said as he squeezed her hand.

She nodded slowly, then said, "If he wrote to Mrs. Weasley, does that mean she's coming over here?" Her innocent expression changed to one of nervousness.

"Well, obviously," Ron said matter-of-factly. "Do you really expect my mum to hear about something like that and not check up on you?"

"I don't want her to act like my mum," Hermione defended. "I love Mrs. Weasley dearly, but she could never replace her."

"She's not your mum, of course she's not," Harry said. "She just cares about you and wants to be sure that you're alright."

"I --" she began, glancing anxiously at the two. "Fine."

----------

"Hermione, dear, you look much better than I imagined you'd look!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she rushed into the Hospital wing the next day. Her robes were huge on her, proving that she was loosing even more weight. "Well, I mean, er, please don't think I'd ever think you'd look terrible."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied with a smile.

Harry was proud of himself for talking Hermione into accepting Mrs. Weasley's visit.

"She's very busy, I'm sure she can't stay for long," he had told her. "And it's important that you know how much people care about you."

"Oooh!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed suddenly, plunging her hand into her bag. "I made you some food. You're getting so thin, darling, we need some meat on those bones." And with a genial wink, the woman handed Hermione bowl of what Harry could only familiarize as chips.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, her cheeks turning pink. She ate the chips slowly and very consciously, glancing from Harry to Mrs. Weasley, then back to Harry.

"So," the aging witch said, pushing a few red hairs behind her ear and blinking quickly. "How've you been?"

Hermione shrugged. "Better. Harry's been taking great care of me." She looked up at him with a smile.

"I'm sure he has," Ron's mother said with a smile bigger than Hermione's. "Such a dear, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. Harry felt really awkward, the two looking at him with big smiles and admiring him.

"Well," Hermione said, seeming to sense his awkwardness, "the Madame has been taking care of me, too, of course. I barely feel anything now."

Mrs. Weasley flinched as Hermione pointed to her left arm. "Oh, do you?"

"Listen, Mrs. Weasley," Harry interrupted, "Hermione's not suicidal." He wanted to jump to the subject they'd been avoiding to prevent anymore awkwardness.

"I know that," she said, composing herself.

"No, really, she didn't mean to hit a major artery. She was unstable. Anyone in her condition would've experimented like that. She never meant to almost kill herself." Harry said this all quickly, not wanting to linger on the words.

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows, keeping her mouth shut for a minute or so. She rocked back and forth, absorbing what he had just told her. Finally, she nodded. "Of course." Then she walked to Hermione's other side and leaned down. "I don't think any less of you, dear. I – and Harry and the other Weasleys, of course – we're here for you."

Mrs. Weasley said the words that only a mother would, the words that Hermione needed to hear. Hermione nodded as tears ran down her pink cheeks.

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the shortness of this, but I felt the need to upload something, and I'm sorry for this being total shit. I added Mrs. Weasley into the story because ever since she screamed "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" in DH, I've become a fan.