Hey Guys… PLEASE don't kill me for not updating… I have been very, very busy… but hey, here is a boring, not so Dramione part of the story ( I apologise) which is quite short (I apologise again) but this is the only way I am gonna get updates in! SO sorry to disappoint, if I still have any readers out there, and I know the grammar here is not great but anyway.. Please enjoy, and review! X DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT (YET) OWN HARRY POTTER! (Maybe someday?)
Hermione's head felt like it was splitting in half, the amount of pain that she was in. She opened her eyes after managing to push the pain under for a few seconds, but the bright, clinical lights she saw above her just confused her more. Where was she?
As soon as her headache had retreated far enough for her to speak, she voiced her question, and a familiar voice greeted her, maybe not provoking the same heart wrenching emotions as it had during the war, but enough to fill her with relief.
"We're in St. Mungo's, Recovery ward." Ron answered her, and stroked her face gently.
"What? How long have I been here?" She sat up suddenly. Had it been a dream? She could remember a house, old and huge…. Malfoy Manor? And a corridor. A Passage? And…
"Ron. What's happened to Malfoy?"
"Malfoy?" Ron frowned at her "He's been missing since the war. We haven't found him yet. Good riddance, I say."
"No, no" Hermione shook her head "No, that's wrong. You know it is." She looked up into Ron's and his flickered away.
"Well, y'know" He stayed looking at the ground. I'll go find out if he's here if you like. Though I don't know why you care." Ron stood up, and Hermione studied her hands, which were folded across her lap. Why did she care? Why had she saved him?
'Just human nature', she answered herself, 'saving people and curiosity.' Yes, that was it. Definitely. Probably. Possibly.
She watched Ron walk away, and wondered why he had lied. Trying to protect her, she bet. That was the problem with Ron. Far too overprotective. She could look after herself. She was responsible, in fact, much more responsible than Ron himself.
Hermione glanced around at the room she was. Plain white walls, several metal beds and not a soul in there with her, although she could see where the nurse's office was.
She slid her feet out of bed, despite her headache, and noticed she was wearing one of the embarrassing hospital gowns. How could she poke around wearing this?
Then she spotted Ron's discarded jumper under the chair he had sat on, beside her, and she swept it up and pulled it on over her head. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. How long had Ron been gone? 2 minutes maximum. She stood, looking once again around the room. Nothing to see here. She hastened toward the door.
Hermione stepped out into the clinical, bright white corridor, the plain tiles cold on her bare feet, and glanced up and down the corridor, and saw people walking towards her from both ways. She stood, frozen, in the alcove that led to her door, and waited for them to pass. All continued on by, not giving her a second glance, and she slowly felt her heart slow to a normal rate. Then she raised her head- it was best to look confident- and took another step, then she turned to her left, where the major recovery unit was, from her memory, situated, and strode on. She was going to find Malfoy, to see if he was okay, and for one hell of an explanation.