Disclaimer: Despite my long absence I still own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter.

A/N: It's been a long time and I feel terrible about not having posted for so long, guys! Anyway, I've been going through a rough time lately - in and out of hospital and just when I thought I was getting back on track my friend decides to kick the bucket. I know, how selfish of him o.O However, I am back and will endeavour to post roughly once a week now I'm well again and I've got funerals out of the way. Hopefully I've not deterred too many of you from reviewing me... *wink wink nudge nudge towards the review button*. This chapter is shorter than I'd like and not what I originally intended it to be but I'm posting and you shall have another chapter by next week that is considerably longer - as I have already written it :D

Thank you all for your lovely reviews, you really don't know how much they mean!

Chapter 13: The Waiting Game

Hermione perched on the hard wooden bench outside the treatment room that the healers had whisked Ron into an hour and a half earlier. She unconsciously jiggled her legs and had managed to chew her thumb nail raw and ragged as she watched healers and medi-witches running back and forth from the room. Staff walked briskly past her with potion vials and various poultices, obviously stocking up their cupboards and emergency rooms; Hermione was screaming inside at how calm and collected everyone seemed; how could they wander around when Ron might be dying?

A cold and slimy panic slithered into her stomach, something she had not experienced since the war. Hermione's hands started to sweat and she felt the anxious tingling of an imminent panic attack in her fingertips as her heart thudded a terrorised beat against her ribcage. She drew in a shuddering breath, wishing that she was in the fresh air rather than a stuffy hallway with the cloying disinfectant and strange scents assaulting her senses.

"Hermione?" Someone sat down next to her and pressed a cup of tea into her shaking hands.

"Thanks Sirius," She replied, running a fingernail along the polystyrene cup edge.

"What an end to the party, eh?" Sirius said after a moment with a weak smile.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, looking around properly for the first time since she arrived. The corridor was much busier than she had originally realised and a steady stream of patients, visitors, and staff passed by at various speeds. One man, presumably a patient, appeared to be taking a step back for every two step forwards and Hermione felt a mutinous laugh bubble as her mind turned to some comedy sketch her dad made her watch years ago. She immediately felt guilty for not focusing on Ron.

"Harry? He's in the relatives' room with the Weasleys, mainly trying to comfort Ginny," Sirius said with a slight shrug.

"Oh dear, poor Harry," she sighed.

"Huh?" Sirius asked before taking a swig of his tea.

"Well, there are a lot of unresolved issues between Harry and Ginny after their break up and despite the situation with Ron I don't doubt that Mrs Weasley will miss the opportunity for some good intentioned but completely unhelpful matchmaking," she explained as she blew gently on her steaming drink.

"Ah, poor Harry," Sirius concluded.

The two of them fell into a strange silence that was slightly uncomfortable and yet not entirely awkward. Hermione took a sip of the brew in her hands and relished the rejuvenating scald of hot tea. "Thanks for the tea, you have no idea how much I needed it," Hermione said, feeling a little more human.

"You looked like you could use one. Not to mention, if you drank anywhere near as much as I did your hangover should have set in just about now with no booze to top us up," Sirius replied with a smirk.

"That would certainly be a contributing factor to the sensation that someone has replaced my brain with a blast-ended skrewt," she muttered before taking a large mouthful of tea. Her eyes watered in shock. "Merlin, how much sugar did you put in this?" Hermione choked.

"Enough," Sirius laughed.

"My teeth!" Hermione squeaked.

"Ah they'll cope! Anyway there's nothing like a builder's brew to take the edge off a distressing experience," He replied.

Hermione looked up at him gratefully as he bumped shoulders with her playfully. His grey eyes seemed a little wearier than they had been when he'd returned. She supposed that Sirius had been given enough time for the losses of the war and how the trio (especially Harry) had changed to really begin to sink in. Not to mention the confusion of being told that Voldemort was gone and the world saved only to have someone poisoned at your party a few days later. All in all, Hermione wasn't surprised that he seemed a little tired.

"This must be terribly confusing for you Sirius," Hermione said.

"Such is life!" He replied with a slightly lacklustre laugh.

"I wanted you to come back and for everything to be good and you to be free," Hermione said miserably.

"Hermione," Sirius said softly, drawing her gaze up to meet his. "You saved my life – for the second time may I add. I'm freer than I can ever remember being – no pureblood family hanging over my shoulder, no Voldemort, no Azkaban, no hiding. And I have you to thank for that. As for everything being good?" He sighed dramatically. "Well, shit happens!"

Hermione laughed under her breath. "Thanks again, Sirius, I really appreciate you chatting to me and the tea – even if it has given me a filling."

"What's a filling?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, it's something muggles put into their teeth when they get tooth decay from eating too much sugar," Hermione said.

"That sounds barbaric!" Sirius exclaimed, putting a protective hand over his mouth.

"They stick a needle in there first," Hermione explained.

"Merlin, I'm glad I was born into magic," Sirius said as he laid a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders and allowed her head to rest in the crook of his neck.

Hermione stared at the door that Ron had disappeared into hours earlier and wondered if she could still say the same.

o0o0o0o0o

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes shot open as someone laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. Her neck was stiff and her eyes took a moment to focus on the healer who stood in front of her. The woman was tall and thin and her mouth was compressed into a line that reminded her of Professor McGonagall when she was about to deliver a detention.

"Yes?" Hermione responded vaguely as she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes and found herself alone on a wooden hospital waiting bench. She wasn't sure how long she'd been waiting outside the side room they'd taken Ron into; it could have been an hour or it could have been six – she honestly wouldn't have known the difference.

"We've already informed Mr Weasley's family of the latest developments but as the person who identified and brought him in…" the healer shuffled her feet. "And the... uh… friendship that yourself and Mr Weasley have had for many years we felt that it was our duty to inform you of his condition and also of another aspect of his treatment."

Hermione frowned but nodded at the healer to continue as she rolled her neck and shoulders to ease some of the tension out of them.

"Mr Weasley legally handed all decisions regarding his care to you in this kind of situation, Miss Granger," the healer said with a deep breath.

"What do you mean 'this kind of situation'?" Hermione demanded.

"I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, Miss Granger," the healer sighed in what Hermione should have probably perceived as a sympathetic manner. "Ronald Weasley was seriously affected by the poison he ingested. At this point it seems unlikely he will ever wake up from the coma he fell into very soon after having consumed the poison. We've managed to stabilise him for the time being, however, you should know that he is not at all well and it is the advice of both the healers and medi-witches treating him that as the executor of his medical wishes you cease treatment and allow nature to take its course."

Hermione could almost feel the walls closing in around her. The ceiling arched up and the walls folded in to trap her in this strange and foreign situation. This wasn't her decision! For Merlin's sake, it was Mrs Weasley's, or Ginny's, or someone else's! But it wasn't hers. It god damn wasn't hers.

Damn Ronald Billius Weasley and his faith in her rationality. How could he expect her to make this kind of decision? She might not feel anything romantic for him but she loved him like a brother, like Harry. She was Hermione, she was logical, she was the brains of the Golden Trio apparently, and yet she couldn't even fully process what the healer had said to her. This was ridiculous! Ron was, well he was Ron! He came through everything… he fought that troll for her in first year, and he put himself on the line for both her and Harry in second and third year, and even after he was attacked by a giant brain in fifth year and had undergone battle in sixth and seventh he was still standing by her and Harry. There was no way that something as stupid as poison at this point of their lives could stop Ron from being in their lives forever.

And he had placed the decision in her hands; should she tell the healers to keep him alive in his comatose state or should she surrender him to the dark embrace of death?